The Barista
by dietcokechic
Summary: COMPLETED Standalone vignettes of life as seen through the eyes of Daniel’s barista. One of the longest works in progress WIP in Stargate fandom is now done! Seasons 1 thru 5
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Barista  
Author: dietcokechic  
Email: dietcokechic@hotmail.com  
Season: We're going through time here folks. Right now we're firmly back in the   
first season.   
Spoilers: None. Takes place after Children of the Gods.  
Summary: Life as seen through the eyes of Daniel's barista.  
  
Notes: These are going to be a series of vignettes from the local Barista's point of   
view. For those unfamiliar with the term, a Barista is the person who works in those   
specialty coffee shops. To be more exact, a Barista is the person who actually "pulls"   
(makes) the shots of espresso and concocts all those fancy drinks.   
  
Hard to believe, but these stories will be ship-free. For the most part. ~*Evil Grin*~  
  
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01- First Impressions  
  
The first time he came in I scarcely noticed the guy.   
  
"Why are we here Jack?" The man asked in a resigned voice. He sure didn't seem   
to be very happy. He was about average height and was in desperate need of a   
haircut. His clothes didn't seem to fit him properly and the guy looked like he hadn't   
had a decent night's sleep (or meal) in quite some time. His companion was much   
more poised. Tall, clean cut and sexy as hell. He sorta reminded me of Harrison   
Ford circa Airforce One. I so know what I am going to ask Santa for this Christmas.   
Yum.  
  
"Coffee Daniel." Well duh. This IS a coffee house after all.  
  
"I can see that Jack, but I'm sure they have coffee back on the base." Base? Ah,   
these guys must belong to that military complex up the hill. Who knows what the   
hell they're doing up there, but we do get our fair share of soldiers down here in the   
lowlands. They're all right. Better than average tippers.  
  
"Whatever Jack." Scruffy guy sure didn't seem to be happy. Actually, as soon as   
the pair stepped close enough for me to take their order I could see Scruffy's eyes.   
Lovely looking blue eyes he had behind those dorky looking glasses. But the   
sadness behind them was unmistakable. Poor guy.  
  
"Hi there." I said politely. "What can I get you two?"  
  
"I'll have a 12 oz. cup of regular coffee and my friend will have…"   
  
"Whatever." Ouch. Scruffy sure didn't seem to want to be here.  
  
"Ah, c'mon Daniel!" Cute guy cajoled. "I know for a fact you lived on this stuff   
before you.." Cute guy paused and shifted from one foot to another as if   
embarrassed. "You like coffee Daniel." He said finally.  
  
"Double short Americano with a splash of steamed milk please." There we go! Nice   
clean order. Points for Scruffy.  
  
"Americano? What the hell is that?" Cute guy was asking his friend, but I took the   
opportunity to chirp in.  
  
"It's two shots of espresso with 6 ounces of hot water."  
  
"Sounds like a cup of coffee to me."  
  
"Espresso isn't drip coffee Jack."   
  
"Fine, fine- order what you want." Cute guy was reaching into his pocket for money.  
  
"That will be $3.59." I say ringing up their order. "Tall Drip and double short   
Americano!" I shout at the barista behind the machine. Idly I looked at my watch.   
I still had another 20 more minutes before my turn to pull. Not that I don't like   
taking the orders, but.. Ah who am I kidding? Customer service sucks. Get to see   
cute guys though. Tall guy is yummy.   
  
"Here's $5.00." He handed me the five-dollar bill and turned to his friend. "Danny,   
you happen to have a dime?" Scruffy shot his friend a deer in the headlights sort of   
look.  
  
"I don't have any money Jack." He said softly. Yeah, well that happens, no big deal   
Scruff. So why did cute guy look embarrassed and Scruffy seem like he was about   
to cry? These guys were weird.  
  
"Ah man! I'm sorry Daniel, I totally forgot." Tall guy gave his friend a friendly   
squeeze on the shoulder. "We'll get that straightened out first thing this morning."  
  
"Sure Jack." I clear my throat. As odd as this conversation was, I had a line of   
customers after all.  
  
"Sorry about that. Here ya go." He handed over the five.  
  
"Keep the change." I beamed at him. Have I mentioned how much I love big   
tippers? Sure, we pool our tips here, but there were only three of us working at the   
moment.  
  
The pair walked off to the end of the counter and picked up their drinks. Out of the   
corner of my eye I watched as tall cute guy headed over to the condiments counter   
and poured some milk into his coffee while Scruffy cupped his hands around the   
paper cup and carefully took a sip.  
  
His head came up as his eyes closed in obvious bliss. Guess he liked it, eh?  
  
"Aha! See, I told you this was a good idea!" His friend said triumphantly as he   
caught sight of Scruffy's obvious enjoyment.  
  
"I've missed this Jack." Scruffy said releasing a small smile. Lovely smile actually.  
  
"There's lots of good things here Daniel." Tall cute guy said almost tenderly. Ok.   
That was an odd comment.  
  
"I know." Scruffy took another sip of his drink as the pair started walking out the   
front entrance. The last I heard before they disappeared was tall cute guy saying,  
  
"And I'm talking about stuff besides Kleenex here!" They both laughed.   
  
Like I said, weird.  
  
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Like it? Hate it? I'll post more frequently if I hear nice things from folks! 


	2. Scruffy no more

The Barista  
02- Scruffy no more.  
  
It was nearly a month later when I saw him again. Scruffy I mean. He came in   
alone without tall cute guy, but that was all right. Scruffy wasn't nearly so scruffy in   
clothes that actually fit. Plus he had lost that vulnerable, just-been-mugged look to   
him.  
  
It was barely 6 am and I had the shop to myself for another hour. I actually like   
working the morning shift. Ok, maybe like is too strong a word, but it really wasn't   
so bad. Lots of regulars who tip nicely. Best of all, I didn't have to share it with   
anyone. What can I say? College textbooks don't grow on trees.  
  
"Good morning." I pride myself on not being one of those saccharine happy people   
at the crack of dawn. Sure, some folks might find that refreshing, but it's my shop   
(at least for the next 65 minutes) and I'll be damned if I'm Miss Cheerful.  
  
"Good morning." He says pushing up his glasses. I get the feeling he does that   
quite a bit. He was dressed in non-descript khaki pants and a button-down   
chambray shirt. I think I'll change his nickname to professor. He has that   
professory look to him.   
  
"Double short Americano?" I ask.  
  
"How'd you guess?!" He answered utterly surprised. I love it when I catch them off   
guard. I gave him a big smile.  
  
"You were in once before."  
  
"I was?" Uh oh. Head case?   
  
"Uh huh. Last month. You came in with a tall, cu.." (oops, nearly gave tall cute   
guy's alias away) I closed my mouth, smiled and tried again. "You came in with   
another tall customer." Ha! That sounded quite convincing.  
  
"Jack!"   
  
"Yeah, that was his name." Phew- the guy wasn't mental. I hate it when the cute   
ones are freaks. And he WAS cute. Actually, if ever got around to getting a haircut,   
I am pretty certain he would usurp tall cute guy on his nickname. Besides, tall cute   
guy (Jack) was old enough to be my father. Professor here was not.   
  
"So this is where we came huh?" He asks almost to himself looking around the shop.   
He notices me looking at him strangely and pushing up his glasses again as he offers   
an explanation.  
  
"I was extremely jet-lagged when I was in here last." Hey! That actually explains   
quite a few things. Rumpled clothes, no money—doesn't help fill in the blanks on the   
sad look though.  
  
"Where'd you fly in from?" I ask conversationally. Bigger tip if they think you're   
interested in them. And hell, I WAS curious.  
  
The guy swallowed once and licked his lips. Was it just me or did he look slightly   
pale?  
  
"Egypt."  
  
"Really?" I asked way too energetically. "God, I LOVED Egypt!" This was true   
actually, but did I have to be so cheerleaderish about it? Geeze.   
  
"You're been to Egypt?" He asked with a big smile. Ooo. Like that smile professor.  
  
"Yep. After graduating high school I lived in Israel for a year and spent nearly a   
month in Egypt. I'm a big ancient history buff I'm afraid."  
  
"Me too actually." Professor answered rather shyly. Suddenly I hit my forehead with   
my hand- his coffee you dufus!  
  
"Let me get your coffee for you."  
  
"Thanks." Professor walks around the small shop as I pull two perfect 22 second   
shots of espresso and add some hot water.  
  
"Can I ask what you did in Egypt?" This could backfire on me, but I really was   
curious. Some folks don't mind being friendly but they don't want you to be too   
friendly if you know what I mean.  
  
"I'm an archaeologist." He said coming back to the drink counter.  
  
"No shit?" Ah man! I can't believe I just said that. God, Kira- have you no sense of   
decorum?   
  
"I'm so sorry!" I gushed apologetically. Swearing on the job was definitely frowned   
upon.  
  
"No shit." Professor said giving me a huge smile. I laughed and handed him his   
coffee.  
  
"I worked on a dig in Israel actually." Now it was my turn to sound shy.  
  
"Really? Where?" He actually sounds interested!  
  
"Up in the Golan heights area. It was a late Hellenistic tel." I couldn't help it. I was   
trying to impress him. Only real nerdy folks and archaeologists know that 'tel'   
means mound.  
  
"Find anything good?" He asks taking a sip of coffee. He lets out a small sigh as he   
swallows the warm liquid. I smile smugly; I make a damn good cup of coffee.  
  
"The usual pottery shards and unexploded bomb shells." I answer. He laughs. AND   
doesn't ask for an explanation. I guess if he worked at all in the Middle East he'd   
know that finding bombs in the middle of digs were somewhat normal.  
  
"Been there, done that." He chuckles. Suddenly the faint beeping sound of a pager   
could be heard.  
  
"Darn it guys!" Professor mutters as he pulls the offensive object out of his pants.   
He checks the message and rolls his eyes.  
  
"Gotta go?" I ask.  
  
"Yep." He answers attaching a plastic lid to his drink. "Although they can't really   
start the meeting without me!"  
  
"Ah power." I smile leaning down onto the counter with my elbows. He flashes me a   
smile as he starts walking out the door.  
  
"See you later." He calls giving me a small wave. It was only a few minutes later   
that I realized he hadn't paid for his drink. Ah well, he'd be back. 


	3. 03 Encore

The Barista  
03- The Barista- Encore  
  
He was back all right. The very next day in fact.  
  
He came rushing into the shop shortly after 6 am. Once again there wasn't anyone   
there yet; most of my regulars don't start showing up until 6:30.  
  
"Miss, I am so sorry!" He says apoplectically slapping down a five-dollar bill in front   
of me.  
  
"No worries!" I say with a smile. See? Told ya he'd be back. "And the name is   
Kira." Ooo- feeling frisky this morning are we?  
  
"Kira." He says trying out my name. "I didn't forget to pay on purpose, honest. I   
just sometimes get wrapped up in things and forget…" I quickly hold up a hand to   
stop his apology.  
  
"No worries.." I leave it open-ended. Name please.  
  
"Daniel." Excellent.  
  
"Daniel." I finish. "I figured you'd be back eventually. Can I get you an   
Americano?"  
  
"Big hurry I'm afraid. Just a cup of coffee please."  
  
"French or Italian roast?"  
  
"Ooo- choices! Half of each please." I laugh. Daniel, you're all right.  
  
I quickly give him his coffee and ring up yesterday's drink as well as today's. Before   
I can give him his change, Daniel shakes his head.  
  
"Keep it." I smile.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Have a good day Kira." He says as he turns on his heel and quickly walks out the   
front door.  
  
"You too Daniel!" I call after him. Yep, I like my 6 am coffee guy. 


	4. 04 It's all Greek to me

The Barista  
04- It's all Greek to me  
  
Daniel didn't show up for several days (8 days to be precise) and I must admit to   
missing him. There was just something about him, ya know?  
  
"'Morning Kira." Daniel says yawning as he slowly made his way up to the counter.   
  
"Hey Daniel." I say casually. Don't want him to know how much I missed his   
presence, right? Judging by his appearance, the guy didn't sleep much the night   
before. My suspicions were confirmed once he ordered.  
  
"Triple tall latte."  
  
"Whoa." I say raising my eyebrows. I quickly close my textbook and make my way   
towards the espresso machine.  
  
"You're telling me." He answers letting loose another large yawn. He rolls his neck   
from side to side and glances down at my book while I pull his shots.  
  
"Greek?" He asks sounding completely surprised. Now I must admit that the first   
thought through my head was "Yes Greek you arrogant jerk!" Which would have   
been entirely uncalled for but something that naturally popped in. See, the day   
before I had the most arrogant of lawyers walk in and he too saw my Greek   
textbook. That guy started laughing and asked me if my store was going to be   
opening up a chain of coffee houses in Greece. Seems it never occurred to the guy   
that Baristas could be smart.  
  
"Uh-huh." I answer cautiously. Please don't be an asshole like the lawyer Daniel.  
  
"µ??? ta e??????? ." I nearly drop the small containers of espresso in my hands. I   
want to say "No shit?!" in Greek, but obviously that isn't something that is covered   
in my ancient languages course. He speaks Greek?  
  
"?a?a??? ?a d?aß??? ta e??????? ." I answer in a really, really bad accent. Better   
he should know that I'm going for Greek comprehension, not conversation. God I   
hope he could understand me.   
  
"That was actually pretty good Kira." Daniel said sincerely. Yeah right. "Try putting   
the emphasis more on the second syllable next time." He SO could be one of my   
professors. Hmmm. I really wouldn't mind that at all.  
  
"I'll try and remember that." I said giving him his coffee.  
  
"Why are you learning Greek?" He asks pouring a large quantity of sugar into his   
coffee. Another sign that he had had a late night.  
  
"I'm thinking of majoring in Ancient Civilizations and both Greek and Latin are pre-  
requisites."  
  
"Wow- that's a pretty ambitious degree." I shrug. As if I hadn't heard that one   
before.  
  
"Yeah, well that dig in Israel kinda inspired me and I have become super interested   
in ancient cultures. Seeing as we're in the middle of Colorado, a degree in   
Archaeology didn't seem to be very practical." Daniel grinned and shook his head.   
Oops. Open mouth, insert foot. I'm certain I blushed tomato-red.  
  
"God, I'm sorry Daniel, I didn't mean to imply…."   
  
"It's all right Kira." Daniel said giving me a small smile. "You don't need to explain."   
Doesn't matter, I was going to anyhow.  
  
"No- it's just that I'm not interested in dinosaurs and such so I figured a degree in   
Ancient Civilizations might just get me a little further in life." Daniel nodded and   
took another gulp of his coffee.  
  
"I think you're right." I am? Whoa. I take several seconds to mull this over. Hey,   
wait a minute. He's an Egyptian archaeologist- how come he knows Greek?  
  
"Why you speak Greek?" I ask in my poor Greek 101.  
  
Daniel opens his mouth and I can just guess he is about to answer in Greek when he   
switches to English. Thank You!  
  
"I actually know a couple of languages." He answers sounding slightly embarrassed.   
It was the way he said it that gave him away. I knew. He wasn't just an   
archaeologist that spoke Greek. He was one of those super smart guys.  
  
"How many languages Daniel?" I volley back at him.  
  
"Can I take the First on that?"  
  
"It's the Fifth, and while I'm sure you can, I wish you wouldn't." Before he can   
answer his front pocket begins to vibrate. He reaches in and pulls out his pager.  
  
"You did that on purpose!" I know he couldn't possibly of, but I can't help but   
accuse him anyway.  
  
Daniel laughs. "I owe you one Jack." He mutters.  
  
"Gotta go Kira."  
  
"Next time Daniel. I am going to find out next time." I smile at him and shake my   
head. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ten-dollar bill.  
  
"For the coffee and a little to help with the textbooks."  
  
"Thank you Daniel." I say sincerely. Still not going to prevent me from finding out   
how many languages you speak though! He gives me another one of his smiles.  
  
"Efharisto." Daniel says holding up his coffee cup in thanks.  
  
"Perikalo." I answer. Very welcome Daniel.  
  
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Translation: "I speak Greek."  
Translation2: "I am learning to read Greek."  
  
Hmmm. Guess ff doesn't like Greek characters. Sorry!  
  
You guys still like? I have a little Danny TLC coming up next. 


	5. Hospital Scrubs

Title: Barista 5- Hospital Scrubs  
Season: Season 1  
Spoilers: 112 Fire and Water  
Rating: G  
Category: Hurt/Comfort  
  
A/N: Thank you to Rhia for pointing out the Victors/Starbucks discrepancy!  
  
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I hadn't even opened the store yet when I spied Daniel sitting on a bench across the street. He was just sitting there staring quietly into space. Was he waiting for me to open? Something just didn't seem right. I walked up to him and put my hand gently on his shoulder. He was freezing cold and I could feel his body shaking slightly beneath my gloved fingertips.   
  
"Daniel?" He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes.   
  
"Kira?" He asks as if doubting my identity.   
  
"Yep, that's me." I say taking in his disheveled appearance. He is dressed in thin baggy blue cotton trousers and a large overcoat. His hair is lying limply around his face and he looked like he hadn't shaved in several days. Hadn't slept either by the looks of things.   
  
"Want to come inside?" I ask in a soft voice. I don't know what it is, but Daniel just doesn't look like he can deal with loud enthusiastic voices at the moment.   
  
"Ok" He blinks several times as if unsure of where he is. I help him up and lead him inside the shop. I take a moment and close the door behind us. We can open a little late this morning.   
  
"You ok?"   
  
He clears his throat. "Yeah." Right. As if I believe that.   
  
"Coffee?" I ask. He definitely needed something to warm him up.   
  
"Not supposed to have any actually." Daniel says somewhat sheepishly.   
  
"Any coffee, or just caffeine?" I ask. My guess is caffeine. Although it sure looks like he could use a cup of joe to wake up- he also looks like he isn't running on all four cylinders and I know you're not supposed to give caffeine to ill people.   
  
"Caffeine." He clarifies. Yep- he's sick.   
  
"Then why don't I get you a cup of decaf, hmm?"   
  
"Ok." Oh yeah- something is seriously wrong here. I pour him a cup of coffee and walk around the counter to where Daniel is standing.   
  
"Want to sit down for a minute?" I ask leading him to a small table.   
  
"Sure." Docily he allows me to help him sit down. I sit next to him and think for a moment. Although I am comfortable around Daniel and know he's not a threat or anything, I don't really actually know the guy. At the moment he looks like a mental ward escapee and this isn't a good thing.   
  
"Did you drive here Daniel?" I ask him gently. Please say no please say  
no.   
  
"Walked." Walking is good. That means he lives around here, right? And that he didn't drive. God- I don't even want to think about him driving in his condition. Although I haven't the foggiest what his condition is.   
  
"Daniel, you don't seem very well at the moment. Can I call someone to come and take you home?"   
  
"I have no home." Daniel says in a flat monotone voice. Ok- now I'm really worried. Obviously the guy needs help. Police? 911? I snap my fingers. Tall cute guy!   
  
"Daniel, would you like me to call Jack for you?"   
  
"Jack?" Daniel looks at me with watery blue eyes. "Jack is going to be pissed." He leans forward and cups his head between his hands. "Janet'll be pissed too." Janet? Who the heck is Janet? Girlfriend maybe?   
  
I gently rub his back. "I bet they're worried about you Daniel." Daniel just continues to sit there holding his head and slightly shaking it. "Pissed." He mutters as his body slumps further into the chair. Damn. I have a sinking feeling Daniel is holding onto consciousness by sheer will along; he really needs some help.   
  
"Daniel!" I say loudly giving his shoulder a firm shake.   
  
"Hmmm?"   
  
"Do you have Jack's number on you?" Daniel just blinks at me uncomprehensively. Shit! Not good at all. I really don't want to call 911 and spook the guy. Think Kira, think. Knowing Daniel isn't quite in a position to protest I take the liberty of looking through his pockets. There's a set of keys in there but no wallet. My hands shake slightly when I realize he's wearing blue hospital scrubs underneath the coat. Oh this is SO not good.   
  
Leaving Daniel where he is I quickly go behind the counter and grab the phone. I call information and get the number for the Cheyenne Military Complex. Lord knows how big the place is- I just hope I can find Jack quickly.   
  
"Cheyenne Military Base." A disembodied voice answers.   
  
"Um, hi. My name is Kira Meyers and I work here at the Victor's Coffee House in Colorado Springs. I know this is going to sound weird, but I am sitting here with a man whose name I only know as Daniel and I am pretty certain he works there."   
  
"Miss, this is a military installation and we have a lot of people working here." The guy sounds big and surly. "Do you have his last name or id number?" Cursing myself for my stupidity I jog back over to Daniel and gently feel around his neck. Bingo! Dog tags. Holding the phone awkwardly between my shoulder and ear I pull them out.   
  
"Jackson, D. 312 7795 6631." Jackson huh? Daniel Jackson. Where have I heard that name before? Doesn't matter Kir- focus on the problem at hand here.   
  
"He's an archaeologist and speaks Greek. I think he knows several other languages as well. I know he works with a guy named Jack and he has also mentioned a woman named Janet." When I'm nervous I tend to ramble. Surprisingly, the guy on the other end is being quiet. I can hear him typing something on a keyboard.   
  
"Hold please." Ok. I can do that. I glance over at Daniel. Still staring straight ahead into lala land.   
  
"O'Neill." A gruff voice answers.   
  
"Um, hello?" This isn't the time to play the forwarding game! Stupid military...   
  
"This is Colonel O'Neill, who the heck is this?" I take a gamble.   
  
"Jack?" I know I sound about 10 years old at this point. A Colonel?! Isn't that like almost the highest you can go in the military?   
  
"Who is this?" Colonel O'Neill says deceptively quiet. The man sounds scary.   
  
"My name is Kira Meyers and I am sitting here with Daniel Jackson and I am looking for.." I never got to finish.   
  
"Daniel's with you?!" Colonel O'Neill sounds like he is about to blow a gasket.   
  
"Uh huh." Great. I'm back to sounding like a little kid again.   
  
"Is he ok?" Now the Colonel sounds worried and his voice is quieter. I recognize it now; this is tall cute guy. Jack.   
  
"He's been better." I say honestly. "He's sitting with me here at Victor's Coffee house over on 4th and Madison. He's kinda out of it." I pause for a second before adding "Sir." It just seemed like the thing to say.   
  
"Listen Kira," He remembers my name? "I know this is going to sound strange, but can you keep Daniel with you and away from other people until I get there?" Colonel Jack sounds worried.   
  
"Sure Colonel." I look at the clock on the wall- 6:15. My regulars were going to be showing up soon. "I've actually got him here with me inside the store and I was going to wait to open it up until he got some help."   
  
"That'd be great." He says sounding relieved. "I'll be there with one or two others within 20 minutes." He hung up before I could say anything more. I went back to Daniel and sat with him silently as he sipped his coffee. Daniel didn't feel like conversing much.   
  
The Colonel, a tall woman with blonde hair, and a short auburn haired woman carrying what had to be medical bag all arrived together 15 minutes later. I breathed a sigh of relief. My regulars were showing up as well and had begun to shoot me dirty looks through the glass. I had put up a sign that said, "Closed until further notice" but seeing as the entire front entrance was made of glass, they could see me sitting there with another guy plain as day.   
  
Ignoring the customers I opened the door for the military trio and stepped aside.   
  
"Daniel?" The auburn haired woman said softly kneeling in front of him and taking a hold of his wrist. She seemed to be taking his pulse and frowned slightly as she clicked her tongue. Daniel seemed to snap out of wherever he was and lifted his head off of his hands.   
  
"Janet?" The woman nods. "My head hurts."   
  
"I know it does Daniel. I'm going to give you something to help that ok?" Daniel nods and with the blonde woman's help they remove his jacket baring both of Daniel's arms. Short sleeve scrubs. Yup- definitely a hospital escapee. Janet gives Daniel a shot of something and eyes the half drunk coffee cup with disdain.   
  
"Did he drink this?" She asks angrily turning around and shooting me a dirty look. Geesh Doc, don't kill the Barista. This IS a coffee shop after all.   
  
"Its just decaf." I say nervously. "I didn't think he should have caffeine."   
  
"Damn straight." I hear her mumble turning back around towards Daniel.   
  
"Janet, is he going to be alright?" The blonde woman asks worriedly.   
  
"He'll be fine Sam, just a little tired and disorientated. I'm a little worried about his erratic heart rate, but I think it will settle itself down again in another day or so.   
  
"But we don't know what that.." Sam was VERY brusquely interrupted by Colonel Jack.   
  
"Civilian Captain." Whoa. Guess that means me. And have I mentioned how scary he sounds in full military mode?   
  
"Sorry Sir." Captain Sam sounds quite contrite. Colonel Jack takes the opportunity to walk over to me.   
  
"How're you doing Kira?" Colonel Jack asks sounding as friendly as Colonel Sanders as he leads me over to the very far edge of the store. Darn. Now I can't hear a thing. Can't blame a girl for being curious.   
  
"I'm fine." I say honestly. Scary Colonel seems to have left and colonel tall cute guy has taken his place. Phew. Much easier to deal with.   
  
"Can you tell me what happened this morning?" He asks so nicely and politely that within five minutes I have told him the entire tale. Colonel Jack seems to find the story acceptable and gives me his thanks.   
  
"He ready to move Doc?" Colonel Jack yells across the room.   
  
"Just about Colonel." Doc Janet replies.   
  
"Is Daniel going to be ok?" I ask nervously. I really liked the guy and didn't want anything bad to happen to him.   
  
"He'll be fine Kira." Colonel tall cute guy replies. He gives me a very open look; man he has gorgeous eyes. "I can't thank you enough for bringing him inside this morning Kira. Danny recently received a head injury and wasn't really aware of what he was doing. Or saying for that matter. It might have ended badly, had he not stumbled upon your coffee shop. Thank you."   
  
"We're ready Sir." Captain Sam says standing up and helping Daniel to his feet. He seems a little more aware of what's going on now.   
  
"Can I go home now Sam?" I hear Daniel ask.   
  
"Not yet Daniel." Sam says softly. I can see Daniel slumping his shoulders in defeat. "We'll get it back for you Daniel- I promise." I am confused a bit with that last statement but then again this whole morning has been distinctly odd.   
  
Colonel Jack turns to me and smiles slyly. "I'll say something official and scary sounding as we leave." He says with a twinkle in his eye nodding in the direction of the small sea of customers. Nothing like a closed shop to get folks interested.   
  
"That'd be appreciated Colonel." I say smiling myself.   
  
"Thanks again Kira." And with a small nod they were gone.   
  
HECK of a way to start a Monday.   
  
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Everyone knows I love my Daniel right? Still liking? Make sure and let me know!! 


	6. Colonel Jack

The Barista  
06- Colonel Jack  
  
Season 1  
Episode: Definitely a post-ep for Hathor  
  
Notes: I'll let everyone know at the beginning if the vignette is related to a particular episode. The Hospital Scrubs one was for Hathor.  
  
'Colonel Jack' is dedicated to my beta reader Kath.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Barista life isn't all that glamorous in case you were wondering. As I might have   
mentioned earlier, customer service jobs kinda suck. Don't get me wrong- I do like   
people.. it's just tough to listen to the same inane comments day in and day out.   
"Gorgeous day isn't it?" "Think this snow will ever stop?" Maybe that's why I like   
Daniel so much; he talks about original stuff.  
  
Daniel had actually come to say hi (wasn't allowed to drink coffee yet) a few days   
after Colonel Jack and company picked him up. He looked MUCH better. I found   
myself blushing six ways to Sunday as he thanked me again and again for keeping   
my head and calling Jack rather than a loony bin.  
  
"Is there anything I can do to repay you Kira?" He asked earnestly giving me a look   
that left me fumbling around for a stool to sit on. Whoa. What I wouldn't give to be   
on the receiving end of that look in other *ahem* circumstances. He can't be more   
than 8-10 years older than me after all.  
  
I'm awfully glad Daniel didn't offer to give me money as a means of saying thanks. I   
mean- hell, of COURSE I need money, but money should come from services of   
some kind. Helping out a friend is not a service. And yep- Dr. Daniel Jackson is   
most definitely a friend.  
  
"How about if you proof read my next major Antiquities paper?" I say finally. Daniel   
beamed and said he'd be happy too.  
  
The next few weeks passed by rather quickly, what with my working on a 25-page   
critique of The Roman Period under Herod and all. Daniel came in at least once a   
week and we chatted when we could. I had gotten much better at being able to   
anticipate his order at a glance. Rushing in the door? Grande drip coffee. 6 am   
arrival with lots of yawning? Triple tall Americano. 9 am arrival wearing freshly   
laundered clothes? Double tall latte or mocha; depending on sweet tooth level.   
Breves were reserved for those occasions when he felt he needed calories as much   
as caffeine.  
  
Last week he had come in with a distinct TAN of all things. I had seen him less than   
a week before and he hadn't mentioned going anyplace sunny. The tan was quite   
out of place and I kidded him about using sunlamps.  
  
Which brings us to today. I had opened the store like usual at 6 am and was a little   
disappointed not to be greeted by my favorite archaeologist. Two more hours go by   
and just as I am about to take a break, who should walk through the door? Tall cute   
guy himself- Colonel Jack. He was dressed in faded blue jeans that REALLY hugged   
his a.. form quite nicely. A long-sleeve pullover was on top and a leather jacket   
finished the ensemble. I stand by my original assessment- the Colonel is yummy.  
  
"I'll take this guy." I tell my coworker Stephan as I retie my apron and head back to   
the counter.  
  
"Ah man! How come you always get the cute ones?" Stephan said pouting. The   
fact that Colonel Jack screamed "I am a heterosexual" didn't bother Stephan in the   
slightest.  
  
"Hey Colonel Jack!" Geesh. There I go sounding like an enthusiastic 10 year old   
again.  
  
"Kira." He says giving me a warm smile. "How about if you call me Jack?" I'm   
certain he isn't embarrassed about being called Colonel, but maybe you're only   
allowed to call him that if you are in the military. After all, I had never heard Daniel   
call him anything but Jack.  
  
"Fair enough." I say with another smile. "What brings you to this part of town   
Jack?"   
  
"Heading over to see Daniel actually." He is still giving me a slight smile but his eyes   
aren't happy at all. Eyes. Man he has gorgeous eyes. Deep chestnut brown… Kira!   
Snap out of it.  
  
"Daniel ok?" I ask worried. Jack fidgets slightly and shrugs. "He had a rough   
couple of days earlier this week and I thought one of your espresso concoctions   
might cheer him up."  
  
"Needing comfort drink?" I ask.  
  
"Definitely." Jack says with a nod. I think for a moment.  
  
"Has he been eating well?" I ask. Jack gives me a very perplexed look.  
  
"When Daniel is upset or working too hard, he tends to not eat very well. On those   
days I usually whip him up a breve." Seeing the confused look on Jack's face I   
continue. "A breve is like a latte but made with half and half."  
  
"Does Daniel like these?" Jack asks incredulously.  
  
"Oh yeah." I nod. "They're rich and thick and quite tasty. We can put some nutmeg   
and cinnamon on top as well. A little girly perhaps, but he'll love it."  
  
"I don't think Daniel would be too keen on a "girly" drink at the moment." Jack says   
grimly. Ah. He must have had a bad break up with a woman. Strange. He never   
mentioned a woman to me. But then again, it's not like we're best of friends or   
anything.  
  
"She dump him or he dumped her?" I ask. Jack just shakes his head.  
  
"Observant young woman aren't you?" He says running a hand through his cropped   
hair. I beam. Yep.  
  
"It was pretty mutual actually." Jack says unconsciously tensing his body and   
pressing a hand to his stomach. If I didn't know better, I'd say both he AND Daniel   
had a thing with this woman. "It ended abruptly."  
  
"A real man-eater was she?" I say conversationally. Jack snorts as he tries to stop   
a burst of laughter. "Kira, you have no idea!" He continues to shake his head as he   
gives me a funny look. I sure get strange looks from these Cheyenne folks.  
  
"How about two large cups of regular drip coffee?" Jack says finally.  
  
"We just made a fresh pot." I say turning around to pour the coffee.  
  
I put both coffees in a four-cup carrier and set a small bag of chocolate covered   
espresso beans in the third slot.  
  
"What's this?" Jack asks as I ring up the coffees.  
  
"Chocolate covered espresso beans. Daniel occasionally buys them." I let out a   
small chuckle. "He says it helps keep a friend of his from chocolate withdrawal when   
traveling." Jack smiles and I'm pretty certain I heard the word 'Carter' under his   
breath.  
  
"This is great; thanks." I ring up both coffees and Jack frowns as he pulls out a $10   
bill.   
  
"You sure you got everything there." He asks looking at the register amount.  
  
"I just charged you for the coffees." I say counting back change. "Tell Daniel the   
beans are from me, and that he shouldn't dwell on that Siren* of a woman"  
  
"Siren huh?" Jack says shaking his head again.  
  
"Yup. There are lots of women out there who just want to capture a man's heart,   
use him and then toss him aside. Daniel is definitely a guy who deserves better."  
  
"That he is." Jack says with a nod. "Thanks Kira." He drops several dollars in the   
tip jar just and turns to leave.  
  
"You're welcome Colonel Jack." He isn't so far that I can't hear him muttering under   
his breath.   
  
"For crying out loud, can't anyone just call me Jack?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
*Siren , in Greek mythology, one of three sea nymphs, usually represented with the   
head of a woman and the body of a bird. Daughters of Phorcus or of Achelous, the   
Sirens inhabited an island surrounded by dangerous rocks. They sang so   
enchantingly that all who heard were drawn near and shipwrecked. 


	7. Small World

The Barista  
07 Small World  
  
Season: 1  
Episode: Solitudes  
  
I have been contemplating for almost a week now as to what to say to Daniel   
Jackson the next time I see him. See, I had received a very strange (and long!)   
email from a friend of mine down at McMurdo and I hadn't a clue what to make of it.   
I mean the odds that Daniel… I shake my head and go back to wiping down the   
tables. I figure I'll suss it out by the time I see the guy.  
  
Naturally that was the exact moment the good Dr. Jackson chose to walk through   
the front door. The guy didn't look so good and I couldn't help but wonder if he goes   
looking for trouble or if he's just one of those fortunate few who get lucky. Once   
again he had that lack of sleep thing going for him, and I could see what appeared to   
be a healing gash on his forehead. Ouch! Betcha that hurt. I'll say this for the guy   
though, he might have looked a bit roughed up, but he sure seemed happy.  
  
"Good morning Kira!" Daniel said with way more enthusiasm than I thought was   
warranted. After all, it WAS barely 6 am. After observing Daniel Jackson for the last   
six months, I had come to realize that he only got up before the sun because he was   
forced too.  
  
"Hey Daniel." I say giving him a small smile. "Double tall latté?"   
  
"Better make it a triple." Daniel says flashing me a grin. "And let's make it a   
breve."  
  
"Caffeine and artery-clogging calories, eh Dr. Jackson?"   
  
"I've been told that I need to eat more." Daniel said sheepishly. I pretend to eye   
him critically. Well, all right. I DID eye him critically, but I wasn't just checking out   
his ass ok? Daniel always seemed to have that 'Feed Me' look about him.  
  
"Somehow, I don't think 12 oz of half and half is exactly what Janet wanted." I reply   
placing the crème under the steamer.  
  
"You remember Janet, huh?" Uh oh. Sheepish look again. Hadn't we already been   
through this?  
  
"She might be small, but that lady had presence!" Daniel laughs.   
  
"I'll say so!" He says with a knowing nod. "Actually speaking of whom, can I get her   
a double tall latte to go? Better make it with 1% milk."  
  
"Sure." I quickly go to work on the drinks and wondered if I would be brave enough   
to ask him. I mean what's the worst thing that can happen? He thinks me a total   
freak and never comes in again? Yeah. That.  
  
"How's school coming Kira?" Daniel asks conversationally.  
  
"Good!" I reply with real enthusiasm. "I've just started a quarter long course   
centered on the great libraries of Antiquity and am really looking forward to reading   
everything I can on Alexandria."  
  
"I can loan you a few books on the topic if you'd like?"  
  
"Really?" Whoa. That would be fantastic. So fantastic that I really shouldn't blow it   
by opening my mouth and asking him that question. Hear that Kira? Don't ask.  
  
"Daniel?" I ask handing over both drinks.  
  
"Hmm?" He answers handing me a $20.  
  
"Have you been to Antarctica lately?" Naturally the moment that left my mouth   
there was complete silence in the store. I'm not talking about the silence that comes   
when two people aren't speaking, but the total silence of, well, utter and complete   
silence. Apparently the Natalie Cole CD I had been listening to chose that exact   
moment to end.  
  
The look on Daniel's face told me everything I needed to know but I couldn't blame   
the guy for attempting to put a little spin on things.  
  
"Why do you ask?" His voice sounded odd and his face was a kaleidoscope of   
conflicting emotions. Daniel knew instantly that he had blown it though. He shook   
his head and made his way over to a table. He motioned for me to follow him. As if   
I could deny this guy any request…  
  
"Kira?" He says utterly dejected. "What do you know?"  
  
"It's a bloody small planet Daniel." I say plopping myself into a hard plastic chair. To   
my surprise Daniel burst out laughing. It took him several seconds to compose   
himself.  
  
"So spill it." He says.  
  
"Right." I take a sip of the hot chocolate I'm drinking and take a deep breath. "My   
friend is currently stationed as a GA down at McMurdo."  
  
"GA?"  
  
"General Assistant. It's the lowest paying job on the continent, but it IS still a job.   
The GA's tend to be the ones to shovel snow, set up field camps- stuff like that.   
She's been down there for nearly three months now."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Well life at McMurdo is pretty mundane until the supply vessel comes in January.   
The folks there work 6 days a week, 10 hours a day and tend to watch a lot of videos   
and drink once off duty. Well, last Monday everything went ballistic. All the   
Raytheon…" Daniel gave me a weird look.  
  
"Raytheon is the sub-contractor working with the National Science Foundation folks."   
I explain. "Well, that day at breakfast the dining hall was filled with rumors. Seems   
the SAR team; the Search and Rescue guys, had been called out on a job at 2 o'clock   
in the morning. No one knew where they were going or what they were doing, but   
two helicopters and virtually all the McMurdo medical personal had gone with them.   
Needless to say folks were curious."  
  
"I can imagine." Came the non-committal reply.  
  
"After breakfast my friend went to work helping a team move furniture into one of   
the newly built dormitories. She had done quite a bit of furniture moving and had   
told me it wasn't a big deal. Her words were, 'Beats standing in a gym pumping   
iron.'" Daniel gave me a small smile.   
  
"Unfortunately on the way out of the building she slipped on a patch of ice and the   
bureau she had been helping to carry came crashing down on her leg."  
  
"Ouch." Daniel said grimacing. I nodded. "Yeah." I take another sip of my drink   
and glance at my watch. 6:15.  
  
"Marcie was pretty certain her scream was loud enough to wake the dead and very   
quickly folks had come out of the adjacent buildings to lend a hand. The bureau was   
lifted up and Marcie was quickly picked up and carried over to medical." I grin.   
"Daniel, my friend is about 5'2- maybe 110 pounds. She HATES being reminded how   
little she is. Although her leg hurt like a son of a bitch, to hear her tell it, the   
humiliation of being carried into the infirmary was the worst part of the whole thing.  
  
It was a little after 11 am when Marcie, her studly savior Thomas and her GA partner   
Sydney reached the infirmary." I pause and take another big gulp of my drink   
before setting it down and looking at Daniel as if I'm about to tell him the biggest   
secret in the world.  
  
"They were stopped 5 feet before the infirmary doors." Daniel seemed to go a little   
pale.  
  
"They weren't!" I nod. He looks upset at that little snippet of news.  
  
"Yep. And by a pair of military goons none of whom they had seen before! Daniel,   
it's a mighty small base. Even if you don't know everyone's name, you usually know   
his or her face. Marcie had never seen these guys before."  
  
"Obviously she was allowed in." Daniel said this very matter of factly. My eyebrows   
did a funny little arch as I processed the comment. Obviously?  
  
"Of course they had to let her in, I mean her leg was definitely broken and   
apparently Marcie was contemplating passing out at this stage. I've never broken a   
bone myself, but I guess they hurt like a mother f.."   
  
My mouth was SO going to be my downfall one day. "They hurt a lot." I say trying   
not to dwell on my burning cheeks. Daniel hid a smile behind his coffee cup.  
  
"Both Thomas and Sydney argued vehemently on Marcie's behalf. Loads of swearing   
and threatening to sue if Marcie wasn't allowed in for treatment. Eventually the   
military guys caved. They refused to allow Tom or Syd in, but they did finally come   
to the conclusion that an injured young woman really shouldn't be hanging out in sub   
0 temperature. Without much ado, Marcie was lifted out of Thomas' arms and into   
one of the military guys'."  
  
"Marcie probably wasn't too keen on that." Daniel said grimacing.  
  
"Definitely." I nod. "She chose to show her appreciation by once again screaming   
and then passing out." Daniel nodded. Nodded? Nodded as in, yeah- I bet that hurt   
and was enough to make a person pass out, or nodded as in- yeah I remember   
hearing that. Curiouser and curiouser.  
  
"She wasn't out very long though because when she came to, someone was taking   
her blood pressure and asking her to rate her pain on a scale of 1 to 10. She was   
lying on a bed in a far corner of the infirmary and could hear what sounded to be like   
a dozen different voices through the curtain surrounding her bed. Someone had just   
given her a shot and as the pain faded, so did the distinct words associated with the   
voices. Marcie could tell they were shocking someone, you know like they do on   
ER?" Daniel nodded grimly.   
  
"She kept hearing various beeping noises alongside a lot of really worried, really loud   
voices." Daniel had turned even paler and had begun to unconsciously hug his ribs.   
Damn. I really shouldn't be talking about this should I? I take a deep breath and   
continue.  
  
"Marcie awoke the second time just as they were finishing up plastering her leg.   
Apparently someone was very keen to move her out of the infirmary as quickly as   
possible but the doctor working on her leg refused to do so for at least another hour.   
Apparently he had some pretty vicious-sounding words with some muckity-muck.   
Marce was told to keep her leg elevated as the plaster was drying and try and get   
some sleep. The doc would return in 45 minutes or so.  
  
So there she was lying in a slightly darkened room trying to make sense of   
everything that had happened and all the strange voices around her, when suddenly   
someone not medical walks inside. She instantly knew he wasn't a doc and at first   
thought he was another army goon- but his mannerisms seemed all wrong to be   
military." Daniel seemed to be shrinking into his chair before my very eyes. I really   
should stop. Really. Ah Daniel…  
  
I lower my voice to something just above a whisper and finish the story.  
  
"The guy looked like a car-wreck victim she said. He didn't notice her in the   
beginning and stumbled into the room gulping large quantities of air and throwing   
himself into one of the chairs in the far corner before covering his face with his   
hands." I bit my lip. Daniel looked crest-fallen. I needed to stop.  
  
"I know what happened next Kira." Daniel says in a voice that nearly tore my heart   
in two. I reach out a give Daniel's hand a brief squeeze. Forward? Nahh- I was just   
trying to be a friend.  
  
"All she told me was that the man's name was Daniel and that he was very, very   
worried about his two friends." Daniel nodded but didn't offer me any explanations.   
That's ok.  
  
"I still wouldn't have even thought of you except for one thing."  
  
"What?" Daniel croaked looking into my eyes.  
  
"As you and Marcie were talking another woman came into the room. She looked   
over at Marcie with surprise but still came up to Daniel and gave him a brief hug.   
She then said 'Sam and the Colonel are going to be all right.' Those were the exact   
words Marcie told me."   
  
We sat in silence for several long seconds.  
  
"That was Dr. Janet wasn't it?" I ask.  
  
Daniel nods and clears his throat. "Marcie doing ok?" I smile- god, this guy is SO   
nice. "Yep. She's scheduled to fly out on the next plane and will be spending most   
of her recuperation time in Christchurch, New Zealand. Much nicer than Colorado in   
the middle of February don't ya think?" Daniel gives a dry chuckle.   
  
The sound of someone clearing his voice gets my attention. Shit! I glance at my   
watch; it was after 6:30. I quickly pull myself to my feet and head to the counter to   
ring up Daniel's order. I apologize to the man waiting and quickly count out Daniel's   
change and hand it over. Daniel drops a $5 bill into the tip jar.  
  
I am already at the espresso machine whipping up a Grande no foam nonfat latté   
when I realized I hadn't asked Daniel what I really wanted to know.  
  
"Daniel!" I yell over the noise of the machine.  
  
"Yeah?" He answers turning around.  
  
"Are Captain Sam and Colonel Jack really ok?" He gives me a HUGE smile.   
  
"They're going to be just fine." He says. I give him a huge grin in return and get   
back to work.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Everyone has a nice smile on his or her faces right? Good!  
  
At some point I would love to write the flip side to this fic (and the Hospital Scrubs   
one as well) You know, how Daniel handled being in McMurdo while Jack and Sam   
were obviously fighting for their lives. Naturally I'd have him meet one injured GA…   
It's just an idea floating around. Hope y'all are still enjoying.  
  
~d 


	8. Dress Blues

08- Dress Blues  
  
This is for Elizabeth.  
  
Spoilers: None really, but this takes place at the beginning of Politics. Everyone   
remember that one? Daniel returns from the Alternate reality, but no one really   
believes that he was there. (So how'd he get a staff burn, hmmm?!) Later all four   
meet the always deceitful Senator Kinsey. It doesn't end well.  
  
Special note to Kits- These stories are little stand-alone vignettes and will NOT be   
used as a showcase for Jack and Sam. Although I AM an incorrigible shipper, this   
isn't about them. That said, they might pop up from time to time. Completely in   
character I assure you. g  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I was definitely having one of those days. You know the kind- the oversleep; stub   
your toe on the bathtub, bad hair sorta day. I had gotten to work just in time to   
open and had a whole string of bad customers- all before my first break. Then my   
relief person calls around 9 telling me she was going to be an hour late. An hour!   
Dammit, I so didn't need another hour of this crap. At least Stefan was keeping me   
entertained; he had shown up (on time for once, thank god) at 7 am and must   
definitely be getting some, because he was as cheerful as I have ever seen him.  
  
It was now five minutes to 11 and I was doing my darndest to not continually glance   
at my watch. Freedom in just 300 brief seconds…  
  
"Kira, I can't thank you enough for staying on." Jess gushed as she dashed through   
the front door. "Let me just grab my apron and you'll be free." With that she   
disappeared into the backroom.  
  
"You heard the woman, girl- Get." Stefan shooed me away from the register. "I'm   
pretty certain I can handle a couple of customers by myself."  
  
"Thanks Stefan." I say gratefully untying my apron. "I'm just going to grab my half   
pound and skedaddle." Ah free coffee, one of the perks of working in a coffee shop.  
  
Stefan was busy making a very dry cappuccino when I spied something colorful   
walking through the door. My jaw nearly dropped to the ground as I recognized   
what I was seeing. Who I was seeing.  
  
Colonel Jack.  
  
In uniform.  
  
He blithely walked through the door oblivious to the awed expressions of those   
around him. Sure, we all know there's a military base not 10 miles from here, but   
we seldom see the guys walking around looking like frickin' GQ models. Jesus. If   
Colonel Jack O'Neill had shown up like that at my high school, half the class would   
have enlisted. And I'm talking men AND women. My mouth has suddenly gone   
completely dry and I have an errant desire to ask Colonel Jack to father my children.   
Ok so maybe I'm too young- father my mom's children then.   
  
"Be with you in a sec!" Stefan yells over the espresso machine. All he knows is that   
someone walked in; he hasn't a clue who it is or what he looks like.  
  
"I got it Stefan." I say somewhat hoarsely as I step back up to the counter.  
  
"Hi Kira," Jack says warmly taking off his sunglasses and placing them in his jacket   
pocket. Uniform AND sunglasses. I've suddenly been transported to the set of an   
Officer and a Gentleman.  
  
"Colonel Jack." I say without sounding too flustered. "Who'd have thought you   
cleaned up so nice?" Idiot!   
  
Jack laughs. "Yeah, the uniform is a bit over-the-top, isn't it?" He says self-  
depreciatively. "Not something I enjoy wearing, I assure you." I can't help myself as   
I stare at all the pretty medals on his chest. God, he has a lot of them.  
  
"Kira, you're staring." Jack says in a sing-song voice. I am certain I must be beet-  
red as I look up into his laughing eyes. Utterly gorgeous warm brown eyes…  
  
"Sorry." I say taking a deep breath to compose myself. "What can I get you?"   
Before Jack can answer I hear Stefan's strangled gasp from the machine. Colonel   
Jack has been spotted. I suppress my smile.  
  
"Just a regular coffee for me and.." Jack waves his hand absently in the air.   
"Something drinkable for Daniel." I smile.  
  
"If you don't mind me asking Jack, why are you here dressed to the nines, ordering   
coffee for Daniel? Don't you have servants or something?" I quickly amend myself.   
"I mean junior officers." Jack chuckles.  
  
"I gave the servants the day off." He must have noticed the absence of color in my   
face and decided to come clean.  
  
"Daniel is stuck on base and seeing as I had to head home to pick up the uniform, he   
asked that I grab him something from his apartment. And I did. And now, being the   
very nice guy that I am, I'm getting him a coffee from his favorite barista!" Favorite   
barista? Does he mean me? Ahhhhh. Once again I feel myself getting warm. Man,   
I have NEVER blushed so much in my life.  
  
"What's Daniel's mood Colonel?" I ask contemplating the perfect Daniel Jackson   
drink.  
  
"Jack." He admonishes.  
  
"What's Daniel's mood Jack?" The Colonel lets out a heavy sigh. "Daniel actually is   
a little pissed at me right now. Kinda feels likes everyone is ganging up on him and   
it's Daniel against the world."  
  
"Is it?" I ask still considering coffee options.  
  
Jack lets out a snort. "I guess it just might be."  
  
"Do you think he wants to be comforted, or would he rather stay angry?"  
  
"Definitely angry." The Colonel pauses. "Either angry or ecstatically happy because   
everyone suddenly believes him."  
  
"Think that'll happen?" I ask while pouring the Colonel some freshly brewed Italian   
roast.  
  
Jack scoffs again. "When pigs fly." He mutters.  
  
"Well in that case, why don't we stick with the old standby- Double tall Americano. I   
know if it were me against the world, I'd want a little bitter aftertaste."  
  
"Americano it is." Jack says giving me a go ahead. I open my mouth to send Stefan   
my request when he hands me a hot cup.  
  
"Double Tall Americano." He says staring straight at Colonel Jack. I briefly close my   
eyes. Please don't embarrass me Stefan! And no drooling either.  
  
"Can you put these in that cardboard holder thingy of yours?" Jack asks. "I SO   
don't want to spill anything and have the Pentagon mad at me for messing up my   
uniform."  
  
"You're meeting with the Pentagon?!" I ask absolutely shocked. I mean, I knew   
Colonel Jack must be someone important, (have you LOOKED at the guy lately?) but   
the folks at the base are just doing some space research stuff, so why should the   
Pentagon be involved? Although… come to think of it, why would they need an   
Archaeologist who speaks Greek? Damn! I never did find out how many languages   
Daniel speaks.  
  
"Just a little meeting." Jack says indicating how small by holding up his thumb and   
forefinger. I just shake my head and ring up the coffee. Colonel Jack pays, stuffs $2   
into the tip jar and turns to leave.  
  
"Tell Daniel I wish him the best of luck." I call after him.  
  
"Best at what?" Jack asks as he puts some milk into his coffee.  
  
"Best at making pigs fly." I call. Jack shakes his head slowly as he gathers up his   
coffees.   
  
As he walked out the door, I could have sworn I heard him say-  
  
"Maybe pigs SHOULD fly."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
End Season 1 Barista vignettes.  
  
Hope everyone has enjoyed and I promise to begin working on the next series of   
installments after the holidays.   
  
And to answer some of your questions- Yes I HAVE worked as a barista and yep, i   
DID work on an archaeological dig over in Israel. And, believe it or not, I also   
worked a couple seasons down in Antarctica as well. What can I say? It's loads   
easier to write from experience. I DON'T have a degree in Ancient Civilizations   
though. However, I DID think about it!  
  
~d 


	9. O'Malleys

Season: After the Season 2 opener, The Serpent's Lair  
  
09- O'Malleys  
  
I still couldn't believe I was actually inside. I mean, it isn't like O'Malleys is a major   
pick up joint or anything, but it IS an over 21 establishment and here I was sitting   
comfortably at a bar ordering a white russian. My first drink at a real bar.   
  
I of course tried to look cool.  
  
"Kira!" I turned around to see my friends Lynn and Rachel pushing their way   
through the crowd.  
  
"You made it!" Lynn said giving me a big smile.  
  
"Geeze Lynn, can you be more obvious?" Rach said in a stage whisper. I laugh.   
See, *technically* I wasn't supposed to be here yet. Here being a bar. At least not   
for another 4 months or so.  
  
"You did good with your hair Kira." Lynn says giving me the once over. Instead of   
brushing my unruly mop of dark curls into a ponytail, I had decided to wear it down   
in an attempt to make me look older. Not certain if it was the hair or ID that got me   
in, but I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself.  
  
"Come on- show." Rachel says accepting her Cosmopolitan and giving the bartender   
a huge smile. Man, she hadn't even been in the place more than 5 minutes and   
already she was flirting.  
  
I take out my ID and Rachel examines it carefully before handing it over to Lynn.   
The funny thing is, the ID is 100% legitimate, complete with holograms and   
everything. Real, just not American.  
  
"And they just accepted it as is?" Lynn asked incredulously.  
  
"Sure." I say shrugging. "It's a real ID Lynn. Just not a Colorado license." I could   
see the girls wanted a bit more. I motion them to lean in. "You know my birthday is   
December 5th, right?" Both nod. "Well, in Europe dates are read day first and then   
month. So my student ID card from when I lived abroad reads 05.12.1977. To you   
and me this looks like May 12th . All I had to do was lay on a heavy Hebrew accent   
and say I don't like going out with my passport." I pick up my glass and drain my   
drink. "Piece of cake."  
  
They look impressed.  
  
We sat at the bar for another 30 minutes before deciding to take a seat at a table.   
Drinking hard alcohol seemed to have given me quite an appetite. Go figure. Right   
after we were seated, Lynn and Rachel got up to use the restroom. I can SO   
understand where guys get the silly idea that women can't go to the bathroom by   
themselves. Geeze.  
  
I am nursing a new fruity (and alcoholic) drink when I hear a familiar voice directly   
behind me.  
  
"Where the heck is he?" Colonel Jack groused (hopefully not to himself).  
  
"Daniel said he'd be here at 7 Sir. It's only 7:15." Ah, that must be Captain Sam.  
  
"I better call and see if he's ok." Jack says sounding a tad frantic; his tone of voice   
actually freaked me out a little. Had Daniel been in an accident? Again? I   
surreptitiously moved myself over one chair so I could actually see them a little.   
Yes, I was spying. Happy?  
  
"Sir," Captain Sam says placing her hand on Jack's arm. "I'm sure he's fine and on   
his way." She gave him a look I couldn't quite decipher.   
  
"Yeah, I know." Jack rubbed a hand roughly across his face. "It's just…"  
  
"I know." Sam says quietly. The mood that hung over that table was nearly   
palatable. I wondered what had happened to get them all worked up.  
  
"So…" Jack said picking up his beer. "What are we celebrating again Captain?" I   
couldn't quite tell, but I think he looked damn right mischievous. Sam chuckled.  
  
"Successful simulation of catastrophic collisions in space." I nearly spat my drink   
out. What?!   
  
"Quite a mouthful." Jack said nodding.  
  
"Sir, I still say we should have gone to your place for this. I mean, what if we get   
drunk and start to talk." Sam looks vaguely worried. Well, they WERE military after   
all.   
  
"Yeah, we wouldn't want that now would we Captain?" Jack gave a mock shiver.   
"Might be scary."  
  
"Sir! You know what I mean." Sam looks very serious.  
  
"Ah lighten up Carter." Jack said pushing Sam's drink closer to her. "I don't know   
about you, but I sure worked up a hell of an appetite simulating catastrophic   
collisions." I SWEAR I could see the quotation marks around that statement.   
  
"Doesn't a nice steak dinner sound better than a take out pizza?" Sam sighed and   
let out a small smile.  
  
"Yeah it does. And I AM hungry. Can't actually remember the last time I had a   
decent meal."  
  
"Simulations burn a hell of a lot of calories." Jack said in an amused voice. Sam   
snorted.   
  
"You got that right."  
  
A waitress came around to their table and asked if they were ready to order. Jack   
said they were waiting for a friend but he'd have a whiskey.  
  
"Captain?" Jack asked. "A drink?"  
  
"I am drinking Sir." Jack waved his hand to indicate that a beer was *not*   
considered a real drink.  
  
"Ah come on Carter, we're celebrating."  
  
"I'm fine with my beer Sir." Sam said taking a sip of her drink.  
  
"Chicken?" Jack countered.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I'll give you a 2:1 handicap, how's that?"  
  
"Sir, are you challenging me to a drinking contest?!" Sam asked incredulously.  
  
"Yup." I could see the Colonel's twinkling eyes from here.  
  
"Sir, you really don't want to do this." Sam said in a voice that warned of complete   
and total annihilation.  
  
"2:1 Carter. Good odds."  
  
"You'll lose Sir." Sam said this very matter of factly.  
  
"Prove it." Jack said draining his beer. I could see a thousand thoughts flashing   
through Sam's mind. She tilted her head slightly with a 'what the hell' attitude and   
turned towards the waitress.  
  
"Jack Daniels. Neat."  
  
"Now you're talking Carter!" Jack said beaming. I almost laughed out loud. Sam   
just ordered a Jack Daniels. Here she was sitting with Jack and waiting for Daniel! I   
found this utterly hysterical and idly wondered if anyone else would. Yep. I was   
drunk.  
  
"This is so not a good idea Sir. But like you said, we're celebrating."  
  
"Damn straight!"  
  
I could see my friends exiting the restroom and quickly moved myself back to my   
original location. My eavesdropping came to an abrupt end as a group of rather loud   
(and cute) college guys were seated on the other side of our table. Ah well, probably   
for the best. We ordered our food and I soon forgot about Colonel Jack and Captain   
Sam. The conversation had shifted towards the physical attributes of the hunky   
boys across from us. Always a pleasing conversation.  
  
We had just begun eating when suddenly I heard his voice. Daniel's that is.  
  
"Hi guys." Dang! My back is still turned; I can't see a damn thing.  
  
"Space monkey!" Jack said a bit too loudly skootching his chair backwards. I take a   
quick glance behind me and see Jack pulling Daniel into a big bear hug. He's   
grinning like he's just discovered his long lost brother. I can't help but smile as I   
quickly turn back around towards my friends; they're watching the scene as well.  
  
"Ah Jack?" Daniel says sounding a bit muffled. "Public place? Oxygen needed?"  
  
"Oops sorry Danny." I hear sounds of chairs moving. Everyone must be seated   
again.  
  
"Guys? What's with all the empty glasses?"  
  
"Colonel 'Great Idea' here challenged me to a drinking contest." Sam said slurring   
her words ever so slightly. "I'm winning!"  
  
"Are not."  
  
"Am too."  
  
"Are.."  
  
"I get the idea guys." Daniel interrupts. My friends are smiling widely. Daniel and   
company are quite entertaining.   
  
"You sure that's such a good idea Jack?" Daniel asks sounding a little worried.   
Worrywart. Live a little Daniel! I silently urge.  
  
"Absolutely!" Jack says. I hear the sound of a glass hitting the table. He probably   
just finished his drink.  
  
"After all, it isn't everyday you…" He paused searching for the right words. "Help me   
out here Captain."  
  
"Successfully stimulate a catastrophic space collision." Jack guffaws loudly.  
  
"You said stimulate!"  
  
"Did not!"  
  
"Did too!"  
  
"They teach you these conversational skills in officer school?" Daniel asks drolly. As   
I listened to them banter back and forth I couldn't help but wonder about that   
'catastrophic space collision'. Last night there had been two huge flashes of light   
high over the western hemisphere. No one was quite certain what had happened but   
there was a lot of speculation. I had heard everything from asteroid collision to alien   
invasion. I wonder if Cheyenne Mountain had anything to do with it?  
  
The college boys suddenly got much louder and our focus was turned away from   
Colonel Jack, Sam and Daniel and over towards the hunks across the room. As   
entertaining (and cute!) as I find Daniel and Jack, they are NOT guys I could   
seriously date or anything. College seniors are much more attainable.  
  
It was at least an hour (and two drinks later) when I found myself staggering upright   
towards the bathroom. Unlike my two friends, I don't need a buddy when I head to   
the loo.  
  
"Get us a pitcher of beer on the way back Kira!" Lynn calls over her shoulder. I nod.   
Beer. Right. I think perhaps I shall stick to water from this point forward. I was   
wasted.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I had just managed to squirm my way up to the bar when I literally ran into him.   
Him of course being Daniel.  
  
"Oops. Sorry Daniel." I slur (only slightly) as I smile up at my favorite customer.   
  
"Know you?" Daniel asks looking at me blankly. I think he meant to say 'Do I know   
you?' I guess Daniel has played a little catch-up in the alcohol consumption   
department. He's totally smashed. Hey! That makes both of us!  
  
"Yep." I say nodding affirmatively. "I'm Kira." He still looks a bit confused. "From   
the coffee shop?" He looks at me critically for several moments before a smile   
creeps across his face. Recognition.  
  
"Kira!" He says giving me a big hug and lifting me up into the air. Whoa. Daniel-  
hug. The guy is a hell of a lot stronger than he looks. And he's wearing a thin shirt.   
A shirt so thin I can actually feel the muscles on his chest and arms. Oh god, he's   
just supplied fantasy fodder for the next week.   
  
"Hey Daniel." I squeak out. Just don't drool Kira. NO DROOLING. He puts me   
down. Thank god.  
  
"Whatcha doing here?" He asks.   
  
"Drinking?" I offer.  
  
"Me too!" He says tappinig his chest proudly. I laugh. Daniel suddenly reaches out   
and touches my hair. He quickly snatches his hand back.  
  
"I like your hair." He says simply still staring at me.  
  
"Thanks." I'm certain my cheeks are a fabulous shade of red. Was Daniel coming on   
to me? I mean it was one thing for me to worship him from afar, but I wasn't really   
prepared to have him actually LIKE me.  
  
"Sharay has hair just like yours." He says still staring at me. Sharay? Who's that?   
Funny sounding name.  
  
Before Daniel can explain I spy Jack's tall figure coming towards us. Dressed in   
jeans and a t-shirt he looks nearly as delectable as Daniel. I really should stop   
thinking these things.  
  
The last time I had seen Colonel Jack, he'd been well on his way to drunkenness, but   
he appeared to be walking without any noticeable sway. Guess the guy could hold   
his liquor. Wonder how Captain Sam was doing….  
  
"Daniel!" Jack called as he approached his friend from behind.  
  
"Look Jack, it's Kira!" Daniel said gleefully as he 'introduced' me.  
  
"Hi Kira!" Jack said cheerfully. He might be intoxicated, but he definitely wasn't   
drunk. Not like Daniel. Oh, that man was so going to hurt in the morning. Come to   
think of it, *I* was probably going to hurt in the morning as well. I open my mouth   
to say hi when suddenly Jack whips his head back around and looks me straight in   
the eyes.  
  
"Kira?" He asks pointedly. "Are you really 21?" Uh oh. Jack is a Colonel in the   
United States Air Force. I think he might be able to arrest me or something.  
  
"Uh, yes?" Can't hurt to try, right?  
  
"Hmmm." Jack says continuing to stare at me with those VERY penetrating eyes.   
Whoa.  
  
"You here by yourself?" He asks not giving me an inch of breathing room.  
  
"With friends." True statement Colonel Jack! Promise!  
  
"Male or female?" It suddenly occurred to me that I was being interrogated. Wow.  
  
"Female."  
  
"So you're not slobbering all over some pimply-faced, hormone infested goon?"   
Jack asks still serious. I can't help it- I laugh. I suddenly realize what the Colonel is   
doing. He's acting like a dad.   
  
"Nope." I say shaking my head. Not tonight anyhow…  
  
"Taking a cab home of course." He says this as a statement, not a question.  
  
"Yes Sir." I say giving him a salute. Cheeky Meyers. Very cheeky. Jack smiles.  
  
"Good!" He says turning his attention back towards Daniel.  
  
"Carter just called the cabs Daniel."  
  
"Look Jack!" Daniel says patting Jack's hand to get his attention. "Kira has hair just   
like Sharay's," He stares at my head intensely with a vacant gaze. The guy was a   
million miles away.   
  
"Ah Danny," Jack said sounding a bit sad. "Tonight you're supposed to be a happy   
drunk, not a melancholy one."  
  
"Not melon.. melank.." Daniel slapped his hand down on the bar and shakes his   
head. "Not sad Jack." And it's true. He doesn't really look sad, just drunk and a   
little thoughtful. Still don't know who this Sharay person is though.  
  
"Ah, gotta ask guys." I say looking from one to the other. "Who's Sharay?"  
  
"My wife." Daniel says simply. Jack frowns.  
  
"Ah, it's complicated Kira." Jack says hoping to change the subject. He could see   
the shock written all over my face. Daniel is married?!  
  
"Ya don't look a thing like her Kira." Daniel says leaning in closer to me. He smells   
like beer and aftershave. Really nice aftershave.   
  
"But your hair…" He reaches back out to touch my hair and Jack quickly grabs his   
hand and guides it back down towards the bar.  
  
"Daniel, we gotta go hook back up with Carter."  
  
"Ok." Daniel says amicably. They stand up to go.  
  
"Kira, you make sure you take a cab home, ok?" I nod. "Alone."   
I again give a sloppy salute.  
  
"Yes Sir Colonel Dad Sir." Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized I had just   
called Jack 'dad'. Oops. Jack just grins.  
  
"G'night Kira." Daniel calls giving me a small wave as Jack leads him through the   
crowd towards the door. I could see Sam leaning against the wall waiting for them.   
Idly I wondered who had won their drinking contest.   
  
I smile to myself and shake my head as I order another pitcher of beer. I have   
decided I like this pub. I was definitely going to return to O'Malleys again.   
  
Just as soon as I turned 21.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N I think this was just about the funnest thing I have written to date. Please let   
me know if my attempts at humor were successful 


	10. Explanations

The Barista  
10- Explanations  
  
My evening out at O'Malley's had several unforeseen consequences. The first being   
that I decided it was probably best to store my European ID and stick to a Colorado   
license for the time being. I wasn't really afraid of getting in trouble at a bar, but   
having Colonel Jack O'Neill upset at me was something I just plum didn't want. The   
second had to do with Daniel and his mysterious wife. Married! It was an odd   
concept that I just couldn't get my mind wrapped around. I wonder why he didn't   
wear a ring? One thing I knew for certain; I was *never* going to wear my hair   
down ever again. Well, not at work anyhow.  
  
I was slow in opening the store on Monday (this would be just 36 hours after the   
infamous Saturday night out) and I idly wondered if my blood alcohol level was   
finally back to 0. I had lost count of the number of drinks I had consumed at the   
bar. Despite the three Tylenol I had taken that morning, I still felt like crap.   
  
I had just finished brewing the first pot of coffee when I caught sight of Daniel   
walking towards the door. He seemed slightly tentative, as if unsure if he really   
wanted to come inside. I could actually see him physically bracing himself as he   
opened the door. As if I was scary! Geesh.  
  
"'Morning Daniel." I say somewhat sheepishly. He wasn't the only one feeling a bit   
self-conscious.   
  
"Hi Kira." Several long seconds go by as we stare at one another trying to think up   
some magical phrase that will make everything less awkward.  
  
"Look about.." We both say at the same time. Daniel chuckles and I laugh. Ah the   
heck with it. We don't need to talk about O'Malleys.  
  
"What can I make you to drink Daniel?" I ask moving around the backside of the   
counter.  
  
"Double tall mocha with whipped cream." I raise an eyebrow.  
  
"Feeling energetic this morning are we?" I tease.  
  
"Jack had me drinking horrible tomato juice concoctions most of the day yesterday, I   
feel the need for something tasty." I nod my head in agreement.  
  
"I unfortunately can't say I ate anything of substance yesterday." I say grimacing.   
Not for lack of trying though. Absently I place a hand against my stomach.  
  
"Ouch. Sorry Kira." Daniel says apologetically. He gives me a small smirk.   
"Although if I remember correctly, Jack said something about you not *quite* being   
21." I hold up a hand to stop the lecture.  
  
"I have sworn off bars until I am the proper age Dr. Jackson." Daniel laughs. "And   
make sure you tell Colonel Jack that!" I yell over the noise of the steamer.  
  
Daniel pays for his drink but remains near the register; obviously there is something   
else on his mind.  
  
"I'm sorry if I was out of line at the bar Kira." Daniel says embarrassed. "I honestly   
didn't mean to uh..invade your space.." He shrugs. "It just happened."   
  
"Ah no worries Daniel." I say placing my hand briefly on his. "You must miss her   
very much." Daniel nods.  
  
"I do." He gets a far away look in his eye before shaking his head briefly and looking   
back at me. "I bet you have a couple questions."  
  
"Actually Dr. Jackson, I have a LOT of questions, but somehow I don't think you'll be   
able to answer very many of them." I of course was referring to his work. I still   
didn't have all the details but I knew he worked with the military on some sort of   
classified project. What I was REALLY wondering, is just what they heck he did for   
them. See, I had done a little Internet research and had discovered that Daniel   
was.is WAY smart. He speaks over 20 languages! TWENTY. I mean, how the hell   
is that even possible?! He graduated college before he was 18 and went on to get a   
couple Masters AND Doctorates. I discovered all this on a website that talked about   
some archaeology conference that Daniel attended a couple years back. Seems he   
was the keynote speaker or something. Thing was, he apparently said some pretty   
wacky stuff and shortly thereafter just vanished from the face of the earth. I guess   
if I had stood up in front of hundreds of my peers (providing of course I ever HAVE   
peers) and said that the ancient pyramids were created by aliens, I would have   
disappeared as well. And after being gone for well over a year he suddenly   
reappears. But instead of working in academia or out in the middle of nowhere on a   
dig someplace, he's here in Colorado Springs hanging out with the military. It was   
just plain odd.   
  
But the question I think Daniel was referring to was.  
  
"So you're married, huh?" He nods. I glance down at his hand. Daniel has   
gorgeous hands; long thin fingers with neatly trimmed nails. Somewhere in the back   
of my mind I wonder if his hands are as soft as they look. Of course being an   
archaeologist, they're probably callused. Kira! Stop it!  
  
"No ring?" Daniel looks down at his left hand and slowly shakes his head.  
  
"No ring." He confirms. "My wife was.." He licks his lips. "IS from a more   
traditional Egyptian family."  
  
"You mean like Nubians?" I ask intrigued. I remember meeting honest to goodness   
ebony-skinned Egyptians while touring Egypt.  
  
Daniel gives me a half smile and cocks his head slightly to one side. "No, not Nubian   
but something like that. Sha're and her family led very simple lives and physical   
tokens of commitment were generally not used."  
  
"Ahhh." There was so much I wanted to ask, but I was afraid of going too far.  
  
"So what happened?" I ask softly meeting Daniel's eyes.  
  
"She was kidnapped."  
  
"Oh my god! That's horrible Daniel! I am so sorry!"  
  
"It happened about a year ago and I have been searching for her ever since."  
  
"And Colonel Jack is helping you." Daniel again gives me a small smile.  
  
"When he can, Jack is definitely helping." I mull this over for a moment.  
  
"Jack brought you back from Egypt didn't he?" I ask remembering how lost and sad   
Daniel looked the first day I saw him.  
  
"Yeah. He did." I might have found out even more about Shar-ay and Egypt and   
how Jack happened to fit into all of this, but the door suddenly opened again and a   
whole gaggle of tourists walked inside.  
  
"I'll talk to you soon Kira." Daniel says picking up his coffee and heading towards   
the door.  
  
"Bye Daniel," I call after him. "Be good!"  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N Famous last words.  
Next 'chapter' will be post tomorrow. Everyone have his or her hankie handy- I'm   
writing a post-ep to Need. 


	11. Coming Down

11- Coming Down  
  
Episode: Related to 205, Need  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Labor Day sucks.  
  
I mean sure it's great to fire up the barbeque for one last hurrah before summer   
officially ends, but it absolutely bites when you have to work. And the irony that I   
am working in a store that really should have remained closed is not lost on me.   
Why the owners, in their infinite wisdom, decided to keep a business district coffee   
shop open on a day when all the businesses are closed is beyond me….  
  
At least I'll have a comp day coming. Comp days- the new trend in corporate   
management. Actually, it isn't a bad deal at all. I work 4 mind-achingly dull hours   
today and I get 4 additional hours off whenever I want. I open my copy of The   
Odyssey (in Greek) and begin to read.  
  
I had just finished throwing out the first pot of coffee (barely touched, but we do   
have a policy of fresh coffee every hour) when I spotted him. Actually I did a double   
take because although the man bore a striking resemblance to Daniel, he sure didn't   
act like him; the guy looked scared.  
  
I watched as Daniel (or his clone) nervously glanced to the right and then left before   
opening the shop door and slipping inside. He quickly stepped away from the   
windows but continued to glance furtively towards them.  
  
"Daniel?" I ask. I had to ask; I mean this too skinny, twitchy, fearful guy just didn't   
seem AT ALL like the Daniel I knew.  
  
"Hey Kira." Daniel said absently as he began to rub that web-like space between his   
thumb and forefinger. Frankly, it was freaking me out. I continued to take a long   
hard look at Daniel and I suddenly realized what I was seeing; Daniel had, somehow,   
in the span of 3 weeks, become a junky. I mean it all fit. The gaunt face and body,   
the nervous repetitive habits, the way he was not focusing on me. My God- Daniel   
was an addict.  
  
"Can I help you Daniel?" I ask timidly. Please Daniel, let me help you.  
  
"Coffee." He says in a low voice still glancing at the window.  
  
"OK." I say turning around and pouring him a cup of decaffeinated coffee. Daniel   
SO did not need any more stimulants. Even I could see that.  
  
Silently I gave him his coffee. Daniel's hands shook as he cupped the warm   
beverage and lifted it to his lips. He took a sip and instantly made a disgusted face.  
  
"Ah come ON Kira!" Daniel said sounding vaguely like himself. "The least you can   
do is give me the real stuff!"  
  
"You sure that's a good idea Daniel?" I say softly as I take back the offensive mug.  
  
Daniel sighed and glanced again at the window. "I know what this looks like Kira,   
but you're wrong."  
  
"What does it look like Daniel?" I say again in dulcet tones as I hand him a new cup   
of coffee (half full).  
  
"Like I'm some sort of freakish drug addict." He says gesturing wildly with his   
hands. "I'm NOT." His eyes are vaguely unfocussed as he shakes his head as if to   
clear his mind. He takes a large sip of coffee and sighs.  
  
"God that's good." He says closing his eyes briefly before opening them up again   
and scanning the room. He decides on a table the furthest away from the windows.   
What's with the window fixation Daniel? Please don't tell me you're waiting for your   
dealer, because I SO cannot deal with calling the cops on a friend. But I will Daniel.   
You need help.  
  
"I just wanted a cup of coffee Kira." Daniel says sounding like a 5-year-old boy.   
"Just a simple cup of real coffee. Is that really so much to ask?" He sounds almost   
normal again and I can see how hard he is struggling to overcome whatever   
chemical or medicinal *urges* he may feel.  
  
I continue to watch him surreptitiously as I try and figure out a way to call Colonel   
Jack without letting Daniel know; he (Daniel) obviously isn't in a talkative sort of   
mood. I watch as he drains the cup with a self-satisfied smile. Within a few seconds   
the smile and all the color in his face disappears.   
  
"No.." He moans softly clutching his stomach. I can see the beads of sweat   
breaking out on his forehead and quickly move the restroom key to a very visible   
location.  
  
"No dammit!" He shouts nearly in tears as he springs up out of the chair and grabs   
the key. Moments later I hear the telltale sound of someone (Daniel) getting sick. I   
nearly cry myself. I realize I'm shaking a little now and I mentally give myself a   
slap. Stop it Kira! Daniel needs help and you're the only one around at the moment.   
Call Jack!  
  
I take a deep breath as I wince at the sound of obviously painful dry heaves. I turn   
the music up slightly as I reach for the phone.   
  
That's when I hear the door open.  
  
Dammit! I don't have time for a stupid customer! With the phone firmly positioned   
between my cheek and neck, I whip around to hastily take the order.  
  
"He's here, isn't he?" I register the voice before the face. It's a worried voice. Next   
comes facial recognition- instantly I recognize the face that belongs to the voice.   
Colonel Jack. Thank God!  
  
I nod mutely as I hang up the phone. My shaking hands do not go unnoticed.  
  
"He didn't hurt you, did he Kira?" Jack asks in a deceptively quiet voice. His hands   
are balled into tight fists by his side.  
  
"No-o." I stutter. Get a grip, girl! I take another breath. "He didn't hurt me Jack."   
I point towards the closed bathroom door. "He's in there." Jack nods and takes a   
phone out of his pocket. Keeping his eyes firmly on the door he presses a speed-dial   
number (#2 I notice).  
  
"Carter, it's me." He pauses for only a brief moment. "I found him." He listens   
briefly to the person on the other end (Captain Sam I bet). "You were right. He   
ditched us in order to get a damn cup of coffee." He nods. "Yeah, at the coffee   
shop." More listening. "Same one as before Captain." He sounds bone tired. "See   
you soon." He ends his call and pockets the phone before turning back around   
towards me.  
  
"How long?" I know exactly what he's asking. How long has Daniel been in the   
bathroom?  
  
"Maybe 5 minutes?" I answer.  
  
"What happened?" Jack says with a resigned sigh. I notice he's wearing a black   
leather jacket and jeans. Under normal circumstances, I'd ogle a bit- but this is   
anything but usual.  
  
"He wanted a cup of coffee." I begin. "It was obvious to me that Daniel was feeling,   
um, under the weather." Jack knew that I knew, but he gave me a tight-lipped nod   
to let me know he appreciated my euphemism.   
  
"I gave him a cup of decaf, but Daniel instantly knew it wasn't the real stuff. Seeing   
as it IS just a cup of coffee, I gave him ½ cup of regular." I saw Jack shake his head   
in disapproval. "I just wanted to keep him in the store until I could get a hold of you   
Jack." I say sounding a little desperate. I didn't want him to think badly of me.  
  
Jack took several steps towards me and laid his hand on mine. "You did good Kira."   
He says sincerely. He gives my hand a brief squeeze and glances again at the closed   
door. It had been quiet now for several minutes. Oh god! He wasn't suicidal was   
he?!  
  
"I have a spare key!" I blurt out.   
  
Jack gives me a very small smile. "That would be great Kira." I give him the key   
and I watch as he heads over to the bathroom door. Tentatively he knocks.  
  
"Daniel?"  
  
"Go away Jack." Came the muffled reply.  
  
"Not going to happen Daniel." Jack says calmly.  
  
"Please Jack." Daniel says plaintively. "Just go away."  
  
"Sorry Danny." Jack says softly. "I can't do that." Silence.  
  
"I'm coming in ok?" More silence. I watch as Jack inserts the key and turns the   
knob. Daniel apparently offers no resistance and carefully Jack closes the door   
behind him.  
  
Naturally that was the exact moment Captain Sam came running breathlessly into   
the store. She looks around the shop before settling her eyes on me.  
  
"The Colonel?" She asks. I notice that Sam is dressed in jeans and a sweater. I   
can't help the twinge of envy as I notice her legs. My god, that woman has legs that   
go up to my armpits! Lucky wench.  
  
I point towards the bathroom. "He's in there with Daniel."  
  
"Ah." Sam stands stiffly surveying the empty room. We both look anywhere but one   
another for several long moments before I break the ice.  
  
"Daniel's sick." It was a statement, not a question.  
  
"Yeah." Sam says sadly running a hand through her short blonde hair. She looks at   
me as if wanting to say more and tiredly shakes her head. "I know you probably   
have a lot of questions Kira.." I smile despite myself.  
  
"That's what Colonel Jack said." Sam nods. "Did he also mention that there isn't too   
much we can tell you?" I frown slightly and can feel that wrinkle in the center of my   
forehead puckering. No, he didn't say that exactly. Although when you consider   
what little I know about these three, I'm really not surprised. I let out a shaky sigh   
willing my anger to dissipate.  
  
"Can you at least tell me if he's getting treatment?" I ask calmly. Sam nods and   
looks at me with wide blue eyes.  
  
"He's through the hard part Kira." She says softly. "Actually, today is the first day   
Daniel's been allowed off the base since his…" It's clear Sam doesn't know exactly   
how to finish that sentence.  
  
"Since it was found out that he had a problem?" I try. Sam nods gratefully.   
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So what happened?"  
  
"Daniel convinced us that he needed to head home and pick up some stuff. Janet,   
Doctor Frasier that is, thought the fresh air would do him good, but would only agree   
if someone went with him."  
  
"And you and Colonel Jack were it." I finish. Sam chuckles softly.  
  
"Daniel wasn't so keen on the idea, but the Colonel talked him into it."  
  
I take up the story drawing the obvious conclusion. "Daniel talks you two into a walk   
around town and then proceeds to ditch you so he can get himself a cup of coffee."   
The very edges of Sam's mouth curl in a half smile as she nods. I notice that the   
smile goes nowhere near her eyes.  
  
"Yeah." We stand awkwardly near one another both concentrating on the closed   
bathroom door and the soft murmur of voices coming from within. I pour Sam a cup   
of coffee, which she accepts gratefully. Seeing as Captain Sam and I were kinda   
stuck with one another for the time being I realized that this was as good a time as   
any to ask what I really wanted to know. I cocked my head to one side and eyed her   
critically.  
  
"So Captain, you a natural blonde?" Sam nearly spat out her coffee and I couldn't   
help but grin slightly as she sputtered and looked confused.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Ice breaker." I reply shrugging my shoulders.  
  
"You are a very strange young woman Kira." Sam says shaking her head and   
looking at me with real humor in her eyes. "And you can call me Sam."  
  
"So Sam, how do you know Colonel Jack and Daniel?" She didn't need to give me all   
the details, but I'd love to know just what the three of them have in common.  
  
"I'm Air Force like the Colonel and am Colonel O'Neil's Second."  
  
"Second what?" I couldn't resist asking. Sam rolls her eyes.  
  
"Second in command." I nod as if understanding.  
  
"What do you do?" She might be a professional soldier, something I was pretty   
certain Colonel Jack was, but I kinda doubted that.  
  
"I'm a Doctor in Astrophysics actually." Sam says almost shyly. Huh?? I could feel   
that pesky wrinkle once again forming in the center of my forehead as I knit my   
eyebrows together trying to wrap my mind around the facts.  
  
Fact: Daniel and Jack are obviously very good friends.  
Fact: Daniel is an Archaeologist, Anthropologist and Linguist.   
Fact: Jack is a Colonel in the United States Air Force.  
Fact: Sam is a Captain in the Air Force AND an Astrophysicist.  
  
What the bloody hell are they all doing together?! Before I can open up my mouth   
and ask further questions the bathroom door opens. Daniel walks out first looking   
extremely embarrassed, Jack is right behind him.  
  
"Sorry again Kira." Daniel says as he pauses in front of me. I want more than   
anything for him to get well again and impulsively I wrap my arms around his neck   
and pull him down to me for a brief hug.  
  
"Get better soon Daniel." I whisper as I release him. Daniel looks like he might cry   
and I know it's more from the withdrawal than anything else, but I want him to feel   
comfortable around me.  
  
"I have a new paper that needs proofing Dr. Jackson, so come back and visit as soon   
you're able, ok?" I receive a slight Daniel smile for my trouble and feel all warm and   
tingly inside.  
  
Sam walks Daniel out the door but Colonel Jack lingers a bit in order to talk to me.  
  
"Daniel didn't say anything, uh, nutty did he?" Jack asks looking both calm and   
nervous at the same time. I shake my head. This is the *second* time you've   
asked me something like that Jack.  
  
"He just asked me for the coffee and said it wasn't what it looked like." Jack stuffed   
his hands in his pockets.  
  
"He's kinda right Kira." Jack says after a long moment. I shake my head.  
  
"Jack, it's obvious Daniel is suffering from withdrawal. I may not know from what,   
but the physical symptoms are unmistakable." I unfortunately speak from   
experience. My best friend in high school became addicted to painkillers after a   
skiing accident. It wasn't pretty.  
  
"Yeah, I suppose." Jack says sighing heavily. He straightens his back and I can see   
he is getting ready to leave.  
  
"Jack, I know Daniel is your friend, and I know you probably already know this, but   
hear me out, ok?" Now it's Jack's turn to nod. He looks at me quixotically.   
  
"I can guarantee you Daniel never wanted to become an addict. And however angry   
and frustrated and sad you and Captain Sam become, always remember that Daniel   
must feel ten times worse." I take another breath.  
  
"I don't know how or what he became addicted to, but I can almost guarantee you   
he won't ever EVER do it again. Smart people make mistakes, but because they ARE   
smart, they seldom make them twice. Trust in your friend." I finish knowing my   
cheeks must be tinged red. I always did have a flair for the melodramatic. I mean it   
though. Jack just stares at me with these unfathomable chocolate brown eyes of his.  
  
"You're one smart young lady Kira." Jack says finally. I shrug. I mean, come on!   
What else was I to do?  
  
"We'll take care of him Kira. I promise." He turns to go and then stops and turns   
back around.  
  
"We owe you one Kira."  
  
"I'll just put it on your tab." I say with a smile. Jack laughs and disappears down   
the alley.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N I've been thinking about how I would do a post Need story for quite some time.   
Hope this wasn't too over the top. Feedback always appreciated. 


	12. Library Repose

12- Library Repose  
  
I felt a nudge against my back and shifted my face deeper into my pillow, not that it   
was a very good pillow mind you…  
  
"Just five more minutes mom." I mumble without looking up. I hear a decidedly   
male laugh behind me.  
  
"Can't say anyone has ever said that to me before!" I sit up groggily and eye the   
blurry figure next to me in confusion.  
  
"Daniel?" My voice sounds like a cross between Lucile Ball and Kermit the Frog.   
Ugggh.  
  
"Got it in one." Daniel says grabbing a chair and pulling it into my little cubicle   
space. I notice Daniel is dressed in khaki pants and a god-awful tweed blazer. It   
even has the elbow patches! Geeze Daniel, you can SO do better than that. Despite   
the ensemble, he looks delectable as always. Has he been working out? I shake my   
head to clear my licentious thoughts.   
  
Daniel eyes the half dozen books strewn across the table and gives me a wry smile.   
At least I think it was wry. I seem to have lost my glasses…  
  
"Looking for these?" Daniel says with a wide grin as he hands me my spectacles. I   
rub my eyes tiredly before putting them on. Instantly the room snaps into focus.   
The guy who invented glasses must have made a mint!  
  
"Much better." I say with a yawn. I look at Daniel still confused.  
  
"What are you doing here?" It's funny how you associate certain people with certain   
places. Daniel is strictly Victor's Coffee shop and it was very strange to see him out   
of his element. Than again, a library is probably just as much a central domain…  
  
"Probably the same as you I imagine- research." I nod and take a moment to look   
around; the library is utterly devoid of life. True, some may argue that libraries are   
always that way but this time there's truth in that statement.  
  
"What time is it?" I ask glancing at the empty spot on my right wrist. Dead watch   
battery.  
  
"Half past ten." Daniel says. I must look slightly perplexed, for he felt the need to   
elaborate. "At night." I lean back into my chair with an audible 'oof'. 10:30?! That   
must mean I had been asleep for over two hours! Very unlike me. And the   
Librarians let me sleep? Very unlike them.  
  
"I caught sight of you snoring away shortly after I got here." Daniel began.  
  
"I do NOT snore." I reply haughtily. Well, I don't.  
  
"Right." Daniel says with a soft smile. "Funny, Sam says the same thing on   
missions…" Missions?  
  
"Daniel, the Graduate Library closes at 8 pm! How come you're still here?"  
  
"I could ask you the same thing Ms. I find……" Daniel picks up one of the books lying   
open on the table "Legends of Ancient Babylon?" I am pretty certain Daniel was   
going to make a crack about my reading choices being more entertaining than   
socializing or sleep but that thought apparently has fled. He stares at the book and   
then at me with unmitigated awe. Or something bordering on awe- it is very   
unsettling.  
  
"Daniel?" I ask slightly concerned. He wasn't going to go all flakey again was he?  
  
Daniel shakes his head. "Kira, one day you and I are going to have a nice long   
conversation. It may not be for many, many years, but I promise you we'll have it.   
Even if I have to ask the President himself for permission." Now it's my turn to   
blink. President? As in The President?  
  
"Right." I say clearly not understanding a damn thing he's saying. "So why again   
are you here Daniel?"  
  
"I have an agreement with the library to borrow some of the books from the   
MacIntyre Collection." Of Course! I mentally give my forehead a resounding wack.   
John MacIntyre was a well-known Classics' linguist who could reportedly converse in   
over 40 languages by the time he was 50. He was a gentleman archaeologist,   
Adventurer, Scholar and all around amazing guy. He vanished in the Central African   
desert right before WWII.  
  
"I actually have a key to the building." Daniel says in a whisper. My eyes go wide.   
NO WAY. What the bloody hell do you do in that mountain Daniel?!  
  
"What about you?" Daniel asks. Huh? What about me what?  
  
"What are you doing sawing logs in a closed library?" I have the good grace to   
blush.  
  
"One of the Librarians is a friend of mine. She's convinced the others I'm harmless   
and I can now stay here and study until they are ready to lock up for the night."   
Again I look at my naked wrist. "Which will probably be really soon…"  
  
Daniel slaps his hands on his thighs and stands up. "Obviously you are pulling an   
all-nighter Kira Meyers." Daniel says matter-of-factly. "How about I buy you a cup   
of coffee and you tell me why." I give Daniel one of my rare 100-watt grins.  
  
"Actually Daniel, I don't drink coffee."  
  
"You don't WHAT?!" Daniel shouts looking at me as if I was suddenly possessed by   
some soul-sucking alien who happened to be residing in my brain.   
  
"I don't drink coffee." I state again. "Can't stand the taste." He continues to stare   
at me incomprehensively. "I do love the smell though." I say feeling the need to   
offer him *something*.  
  
"How can you work in a coffee shop and not drink coffee?" Daniel asks completely   
baffled.   
  
"You work at a military base and aren't military." I counter. Daniel just shakes his   
head. Match point to Kira!  
  
"Can I offer you some sort of sustenance Ms. Meyers?" Daniel asks. In reply my   
stomach growls. I blush. Damn. Can't actually remember when I last ate. That's   
not a good sign is it?  
  
"Food it is." Daniel says carefully stacking my papers to one side and book marking   
the pages in my open textbooks.  
  
"Wendy says she'll leave a note and make sure nothing here is touched until you   
return tomorrow."  
  
"Wendy?" I ask raising an eyebrow in question.  
  
"Closing Librarian."   
  
"Ah." Together we stack up my assorted books and I grab my coat. Daniel sees me   
itching to take some of the papers home.  
  
"They'll be here in the morning Kira. Promise."  
  
"And if they aren't?" I ask worriedly.  
  
"If they aren't, I'll write your paper for you."  
  
"You'll write a paper on the fall of Babylon and the subsequent rise in war-like city   
states?" Daniel paled ever so slightly as I said this but stood firm.  
  
"Yep." His eyes twinkled as he regained his composure. "And I'll make sure to put   
in plenty of typos and bibliographical errors."  
  
"Oh no you won't!"  
  
"You ARE only an Undergraduate Kira." Daniel says matter-of-factly.  
  
"Only for another year." I counter.  
  
"Another year?" Daniel looks at me out of the corner of his eye. We're currently   
going down the stairs of the library and it's rather dark. "I thought you're a   
sophomore."   
  
"Technically I am but…"  
  
"But?" We reach the bottom of the stairs and head right towards the parking lots.  
  
"But between the AP credits from high school and taking at least 18 credits a quarter   
here… I'll be graduating this time next year."  
  
"That's great Kira!" Daniel says giving me a big smile. Had we not been alone in a   
darkened parking lot, he just might have hugged me again. Ah well, I'll just imagine   
that he did later when I think back over this night….  
  
"So then what are you going to do?" Daniel opens the passenger side door and then   
walks around to the driver's side. I sigh. Chivalry. Guys from my generation SO   
could use lessons from one Dr. Daniel Jackson.  
  
"I haven't quite decided." I say honestly snapping my seat belt into place. It's   
funny how totally safe and comfortable I feel with Daniel. "I'm leaning towards   
becoming an Archivist or Classics Librarian but don't know if that will be exciting   
enough for me."  
  
"Libraries can be exciting." Daniel says defensively.  
  
"Daniel, I am considering getting a PhD in Library Science. You're preaching to the   
choir here.  
  
It's just I want to become a true Specialist, you know? I have lately been reading   
everything I can on Babylon, Assyria and Mesopotamia and am just in love with the   
language and culture that emanated out of that region."  
  
"Uh oh Kira." Daniel said in a voice that was definitely trying hard not to gloat.   
"Sounds suspiciously to me like you may want to become an Archaeologist."  
  
"Nahhh." I say resolutely. "I'm not interested in old rocks and buildings."  
  
"You can find some pretty interesting things among old rocks and buildings." Daniel   
has that far away look again. Must find out one of these days what he finds so   
intriguing about ancient pottery. Ancient communications are MUCH more   
interesting.  
  
"What I mean," I say. "Is that I am so enthralled by the words and stories the   
ancient peoples left behind, that there is more than enough to occupy a dozen   
scholars lives without my having to worry about their houses and left over cooking   
utensils." Daniel scoffs.  
  
"There's a little more to it than THAT Kira."  
  
"You know what I mean Daniel." I say trying to explain. "Haven't you ever just   
wanted to be the definitive expert in *something* before?" A ghost of a smile   
crosses Daniel's lips.   
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Well I do!" I say. My stomach chooses that moment to gurgle in agreement.  
  
"Then one definitive Ancient Civilizations Scholar you shall be Ms. Meyers!" Daniel   
says as we pull into May's. It's not nearly as hick as it sounds. Good food and, of   
course, an Italian espresso machine for those needing to indulge in an after supper   
pick-me-up.  
  
The rest of the evening passes pleasantly as Daniel regales me with tales of past digs   
and adventures. He has done a HELL of a lot. Unfortunately, I also learn he's older   
than I thought. Only by a couple of years, but I was really hoping we'd be within a   
decade. No such luck. Twelve years isn't THAT much of a difference, right?  
  
Daniel drops me off at my apartment around midnight and sternly advises me to get   
some sleep. I almost laugh aloud; Daniel doesn't really have a commanding   
presence if you know what I mean.  
  
"I'll try Daniel." I say sincerely. Considering all my research is back at the library, I   
probably WOULD go straight to bed.  
  
"Good night Kira." Daniel says as he waits by his car until I open my front door.   
Like I said- the perfect gentleman. I give him a small wave and head up the stairs.  
  
My dreams are SO not going to be G rated this evening.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N Thank you Kath for pointing out the evil of my ways. No hackneyed uses of   
"artifact" will be found in this story. *grin* 


	13. Training Accident

13- Training Accident  
Episode: Takes place after 207- Message in a Bottle  
  
I hate working afternoon shifts.   
  
While it is true that there are a lot of tired, cranky people in the morning, they just   
don't hold a candle to the tired, cranky people at the end of the day. Joe-customer   
just wants to get back to his spouse/kids/television set, and isn't so keen on the   
small talk. Doesn't tip so well either. I try not to sigh aloud as I glance at the clock   
on the back wall; ten more minutes.  
  
Normally I always get the coveted morning shifts, but I switched shifts (not my idea   
I assure you) with a friend and now found myself counting the seconds until 6 pm.   
On the plus side, the store was nearly dead and I was almost done with the post-  
closing checklist. With luck, I should be well on my way home by 6:15- plenty of   
time to go for a run before hitting the books.  
  
I sigh and wish Daniel would suddenly materialize to proof my latest translation   
attempt. Aramaic is a very straightforward language, but I was still getting messed   
up with the gender endings. At least with Greek, I could listen to real people   
speaking; it's a little tougher with a language that has been out of commission for   
nearly two millennia.   
  
I hear the door opening behind me and turn around with what I hope is a believable   
smile.   
  
I stare in disbelief at the two figures before me. Who knew I had the ability to make   
wishes come true?   
  
"Hey Kira!" Daniel says warmly as he happily walks up to the counter. *Someone*   
is in a damn fine mood.  
  
"Kira." Jack says with a tired nod in my direction. He eyes one of the chairs near   
the window and unceremoniously plops himself down. Guess the happy warm   
feelings aren't for everyone.   
  
"What the heck are you guys doing here?" I ask. Truth be told, it might be normal   
for Daniel to come by after work, but I really didn't believe that. He's more of the   
work all night and stumble home in a daze sort of guy. Besides, I had tactfully   
asked some of my closing shift friends about him and no one recognized my   
descriptions. Several asked if they could change shifts with me in order to get a   
better look at him though. I smile slightly at the thought.  
  
"Could ask you the same thing Kira." Daniel says raising one eyebrow slightly.  
  
"I switched shifts with a friend."  
  
"So this isn't a permanent change." Daniel says eyeing the espresso machine with   
longing. Yep, longing. I'm really glad Daniel is over whatever drug addiction he had   
in the past, but he still has a serious problem when it comes to coffee. Not that I   
would ever say anything. What would I do with myself without my Daniel fix?  
  
"Nope- I'm still mostly a morning shift sorta gal."  
  
"Good!" I smile. Daniel likes me!  
  
"So what can I get for you Daniel?"  
  
"Double tall latte and half a pound of French roast. Whole beans."  
  
"I haven't replaced my coffee grinder yet Daniel." Jack says tiredly from the table. I   
glance over and eye him critically. Jack doesn't look so good. Actually, Jack looks   
like shit. While I always knew he was old…er, I still considered him young enough to   
well… oogle. Tall cute guy will always be alive and kicking in my little head. But not   
today. Today he definitely looks old enough to be my dad. His faced is heavily lined   
and there are dark smudges under his eyes.   
  
"Jack!" Daniel whines as he took the news as if it were a body blow. "You promised   
you'd replace it!" And people say teenagers have the art of whining down to a   
science?  
  
"Daniel," Jack says patiently while rubbing his forehead. "It only broke a week ago   
and I hadn't actually *planned* on having you over quite this soon." Daniel just   
grumbles.   
  
"AND as you RIGHTFULLY know, I haven't actually been home a lot in the last seven   
days." Daniel has the good grace to look ashamed.  
  
"Fine!" He says with a light huff as he turns back towards me. "Can you grind the   
coffee for an espresso machine Kira?"  
  
"Sure." I say. I turn to tamp down Daniel's coffee for the latte. "Can I get you   
anything Jack?"  
  
"A new head?" He replies tiredly.  
  
"Sorry, all out at the moment." Poor guy. I busy myself with Daniel's coffee. "So   
why'd the Army spring you guys so early?" I ask.  
  
"Air Force." Jack says automatically. Oops. I give Jack an apologetic tilt of the   
head.  
  
"I get to take Jack home!" Daniel says happily.   
  
"Geeze, Daniel, do you have to sound so damn cheerful about it?"  
  
"Sorry Jack." Daniel says not sounding particularly sorry. "But you have to admit,   
it's a nice change from having YOU baby-sit ME."  
  
"You are not babysitting me Daniel." Jack says standing up with a very quiet groan.   
He really must not feel good.  
  
"Poor choice of words. Sorry." Again, he does NOT sound sorry. "But Jack, you   
have to admit that it's usually me that ends up in the infirmary and this time I didn't   
get hurt at all!"  
  
Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, way to go Danny."  
  
"Ah, come on Jack- it's just a little concussion and some, uh.." Daniel wrinkles his   
eyebrows in concentration. "Confused red blood cells. You're not seriously hurt."  
  
"Would you rather I be laid up in a hospital bed Dr. Jackson?" Jack looks quite   
irritated.  
  
"Of course not Jack! But you gotta admit, usually when you get hurt it's really   
serious." Daniel's eyes cloud over and I'm positive he's remembering Antarctica. I   
didn't get all the details, but I betcha it was Jack who was on the receiving end of   
those electric paddles in McMurdo. I barely suppress my own shudder at the   
thought.  
  
"But this time you're fine!" Again he gives Jack a wide grin.  
  
I couldn't resist. "So what happened?" I ask.  
  
For a very long heartbeat the pair look at me like a couple of deer in headlights. And   
then, much to my astonishment, (and theirs) they answer. In unison.  
  
"Training exercise." For the first time since walking into the shop, Jack breaks out in   
a large smile. As does Daniel. They grin stupidly at one another for several   
seconds as some silent discussion is waged back and forth. It is blatantly obvious   
that they made up that answer on the spot but I give them double points for random   
spontaneity. I honestly don't think it was planned.  
  
"As long as Jack is all right." I reply finishing up Daniel's drink and weighing out the   
coffee beans. I pour them into the grinder and tell Jack to be prepared. Obviously   
loud grating noises will not help his head. Over the whirl of the machinery I hear   
Jack complain some more to Daniel.  
  
"I really wish Janet hadn't insisted on a chaperone tonight." Jack groused.  
  
"Come on Jack!" Daniel says incredulously. "Do you have any idea how many drugs   
are in your system right now?!" Jack glances over to where I am blithely holding a   
coffee bag under the newly ground beans.   
  
"Daniel…" Jack warns.  
  
"What Jack?"   
  
"We aren't alone here." I may not be able to see them now, but it doesn't take a   
genius to imagine Jack gesturing towards my back.  
  
"And all I'm saying is that you have had a VERY traumatic event happen to you and   
there was no way Janet could send you home alone in good conscience. Hell, it was   
only after I promised to keep an eye on you that she agreed to release you in the   
first place!" I finish my grinding and walked over to the register. I happily noticed   
the neon time display on the consul. 5:59 pm.  
  
"Fine!" Jack says shoving his heads into his jeans. "But I still plan on watching the   
hockey game tonight." He says this as if he's daring Daniel to take his television   
away.  
  
"And I still plan on waking you every two hours once you fall asleep." Daniel says   
very matter of fact like. Jack is back to mumbling obscenities under his breath.  
  
"You take it easy Colonel Jack." I say sweetly as I had over Daniel's coffee and   
beans. Jack nods and gives me a weak smile. Absently he scratches at a spot below   
his right shoulder.  
  
"Thanks Kira!" Daniel says accepting the goods as if they were a rare treasure. He   
leaves me a nice healthy tip.  
  
"I promise to be quick Jack." Daniel says as they head towards the door. I follow,   
as I need to lock up behind them. No more customers for Kira! Hurrah!  
  
"You know, you already have most of what you need at my place." Jack says   
sounding more and more tired by the moment.  
  
"True, but I just received the latest issue of Archaeology Digest and there's this   
great article discussing…."  
  
"Daniel, please, I really DO have a headache."  
  
"Sorry Jack." This time he sounds a little apologetic.   
  
I see them out and begin locking the doors. As they rounded the corner I overhear   
Jack say the strangest thing.  
  
"Next time it's Teelk's turn."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N As I was writing this, I realized that in the span of four, maybe five weeks SG-1   
has had nearly ALL their members possessed by some sort of alien contraption (both   
organic and inorganic). First was Sam with Jolinar, and then came Daniel and his   
sarcophagus, and finally Jack and the strange alien globe thingy!   
  
Just an observation…. 


	14. 911

14- 911  
Episode: Takes place during episode 211, Tok'ra  
This is for my beta-reader Kath who has a soft spot for Jacob.  
  
A/N I want to thank everyone for encouraging me to write these stories. I honestly   
hadn't planned on this turning into such a widespread series but this little writing   
exercise of mine has taken on a life of its own.  
  
Your words of encouragement mean a great deal to me, and I most certainly   
wouldn't update nearly as often without all the positive feedback I've been receiving.   
Thanks guys. ~dietcokechic  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I needed a break.  
  
I had been working steadily since 6 am and here it was a bit after 10 and I was well   
overdue for a break. As if on cue, Stefan comes running in from the street, already   
dressed in black pants and shirt. He quickly grabs an apron and taps me on the   
shoulder.  
  
"Be free oh beautiful butterfly." He says taking my place behind the espresso   
machine. I laugh as I shed my own apron and head towards the break room. I grab   
a can of soda and my sandwich from the fridge and sink warily into a chair.   
  
My feet hurt.  
  
I pull out a textbook on ancient religions and begin reading. It takes less than 10   
minutes before I am hopelessly bored. It isn't that I don't find the topic fascinating,   
it's just that I can't seem to concentrate on the words. So why do I even bother to   
bring in my schoolbooks? Probably has something to do with the hope that Daniel   
will explain some of them to me. For some odd reason, I can successfully read   
snippets from my books while working, but hardly ever concentrate when I'm on   
break.  
  
It isn't fair really.  
  
I sigh and finish my sandwich. The break room lacks some serious ambiance and I   
decide to bite the bullet and head back into the throng. With luck no one will pay me   
much notice and I can contentedly participate in one of my favorite activities: people   
watching.  
  
Stefan raises an eyebrow as he sees me emerge from the sanctuary of the break   
room a good 15 minutes early. I give him a wry smile and settle myself onto a small   
couch in the back of the store. 10 am isn't a popular time for lingerers, so I have   
most of the backend of the place to myself. I sit down, open a textbook I have no   
intention of reading and quietly observe.  
  
Take that guy for instance- obvious bike messenger killing time between calls. Or   
that guy in the suit- most likely one of those corporate guys from the new business   
center down the street. I watch him with feigned disinterest. I honestly am not   
alone with what happens next. You talk to anyone in retail, and they'll tell you that   
it is quite normal to make up scenarios about your customers. We are the original   
profilers, and you'd be surprised to hear how right we often are!  
  
Yuppie-looking guy? Married, (less than three years) and soon to be new dad. Do I   
know this for a fact? Nope. But I betcha I got two out of the three right.  
  
Or take that guy. He looks a little out of place in a "fancy" coffee house; one of   
those guys who usually buys his coffee at 7-11. In other words- a tourist. He steps   
into line and stares in dismay at the coffee drink choices above his head. He shakes   
his head in amazement as he steps up to the counter. It's at this moment his cell   
phone rings. Darn! Now I can't see if my guess of a single tall latte was right!  
  
He looks abjectly embarrassed (obvious new cell phone user) and quickly excuses   
himself to answer the call. He steps away from the counter and heads towards my   
direction. He fumbles a bit with the phone but eventually turns it on and places it   
next to his ear. He listens for a few moments before speaking.  
  
"Sammy." The man says in a tired voice. "Is everything all right? Why are you   
calling?" He sighs as he listens to the response on the other end.  
  
"And I believe I told you I'll be fine." I'm not sure who he is trying to convince; the   
person on the other end of the phone, or himself. The guy sounds bone weary.   
Actually, come to think of it, he really doesn't look to steady either.  
  
"How are you doing baby?" Girlfriend, wife, or daughter I surmise. The guy looks   
way too hetero to call a guy 'baby'. Again he listens for a brief moment.  
  
"With the Air Force?" He says a little too quickly. Whatever answer he received, it   
didn't seem to make him happy. He lets out a heavy sigh.  
  
"So where are you going? Some vitally important radar telemetry conference?" His   
words are laced with resentment and antagonism. Guess the guy isn't big on   
conferences... He shakes his head slightly as he listens to the response.   
  
"Sam, I'm fine." The guy says falling rather heavily into a chair on his right. I'm not   
being even remotely covert in my observations anymore; he really doesn't look fine.   
I can see the small beads of sweat on his forehead and he appears to be breathing   
funny.  
  
"I'm here in Colorado Springs actually. Found myself a little apartment on the edge   
of town and am hoping we can spend some time together when you're off duty."   
The guy lifts up a distinctively shaky hand and rubs a spot near his temple.  
  
"I'm fine Sammy." Another brief pause.  
  
"Positive. Call when you're back." The man hastily pushes the end button on his   
phone and leans back into the chair. Even from across the room, I can see the   
discomfort in his face. Something is SO wrong with this guy. I am already standing   
up and making my way towards him when I hear his whisper, "Not now dammit, I   
need more time!"   
  
I am nearly at his table when the man simply goes limp, like a puppet whose strings   
have been cut. His head falls heavily onto the table and I'm by his side not half a   
second later.  
  
"Call 911." I shout. A rather clichéd reaction I know, but honestly, that is the   
*first* thing out of your mouth in an emergency, and it doesn't sound nearly as   
hokey as it appears to on the police shows.  
  
"Sir?" I say quietly touching his shoulder. "Sir, can you hear me?" No response. I   
put a surprisingly steady hand on his bared neck. One one-thousand, two one-  
thousand, three one-thousand...I stop by five; the guy has no pulse. I quickly place   
my cheek next to the guy's nose and mouth and look down at his chest. I feel no air   
coming from his nose or mouth and his lungs aren't inflating either. Shit!  
  
"Stefan!" I shout oblivious to the crowd gathering around me. "I need your help."   
A small corner of my mind was hoping that one of the customers would suddenly   
stand up and announce that he was a doctor and knew exactly what to do in cases   
like these. Naturally the man chose to collapse mid-morning on a Thursday; college   
students, office workers on break and tourists- not a professional cardiac surgeon   
among them. Damn.  
  
"Back it up people!" Stefan yells sounding not at all like the flaming faerie (his   
words, not mine) he is.   
  
"Ambulance is on its way Kira." Stefan says quietly in my ear. With a nod he and I   
slide the unconscious, un-breathing and un-beating man down to the ground.  
  
"I don't remember CPR Kira." Stefan says giving me a shaky look.  
  
"Just make sure there's nothing in his mouth, tilt his neck back and breathe when I   
tell you too, ok?" Stefan nods. I quickly unzip the mans jacket and am thankful that   
he's only wearing a light-weight shirt underneath. I silently thank my parents   
profusely for forcing me to go to that wretched YMCA summer camp all those years   
ago. Not only did I discover a penchant for swimming, but later became a lifeguard   
and safety instructor. It's been a few years, but I am pretty confident I know what   
I'm doing.  
  
I find the edge of the man's sternum and automatically move the palm of my hand   
two finger-widths upwards. I begin compressions. "One, Two, Three, Four, Five" I   
say distinctively for Stefan before nodding at him to breathe. I feel the man's lungs   
expand under my hands. I wait an additional count and then begin compressions   
again.   
  
Stefan and I have a steady rhythm going and I quickly lose all sense of time passing.   
It feels like several hundred years, but I know it can't be more than a few minutes.   
Already I feel the growing ache in my arms. I take a moment to feel for a pulse- still   
nothing.  
  
"Come on!" I implore to the still man by my side as I push a little harder on his   
chest. "Breathe!"   
  
"Where the fuck is that ambulance?!" I grunt as I once again begin another round of   
chest compressions. That ache in my arms is growing uncomfortably more   
pronounced. I'm not certain how much longer I can do this. I close my eyes tightly   
for a brief moment hoping to hold back the threatening tears. I've never even been   
to a funeral for god's sake, I will *not* have this stranger die on me.  
  
"Ambulance just pulled up." An anonymous voice says from across the room. There   
is a God. I am just finishing my seven-thousandth and sixth compression (well,   
that's what it felt like to me) when I hear them come in.  
  
"We have it now miss." A soothing voice says as she efficiently takes my place and   
begins whipping out assorted medical instruments.  
  
"How long has he been down?" All eyes turn to me.  
  
"I don't know." I say near tears. My cool exterior is rapidly coming apart. "I was   
doing CPR!" I say as if that should explain everything.  
  
"Eight minutes." A voice from behind the bar says. Bless you Allison.  
  
"Tell me what happened." She says as she barks numbers and medical jargon at her   
partner. I notice he's already by the man's head with an oxygen bag. The woman   
herself has started compressions again. Damn. I was hoping they'd just give him   
some miracle shot and he'd wake up.  
  
"He was talking on the phone when he just collapsed in his chair."  
  
"Did he clutch his heart, or give any indication that his chest was bothering him?"  
I shake my head.  
  
"No. If anything, it was his head that seemed to give him some discomfort." The   
EMT shot her partner another look and rattled off more medicalese. They quickly   
move him onto a backboard and within a few seconds have him ready to move.  
  
"Is he going to be all right?" I ask following them outside.  
  
"I hope so." She says as they efficiently lift him up. "We're taking him to CP   
General." She gives a small nod to her partner and within moments they're out on   
the street and loading the still inert man into an ambulance. As they close the door I   
hear the woman bark at someone to charge the paddles.  
  
Oh God.  
  
Suddenly I find myself kneeling unceremoniously on the cold ground and struggling   
to breathe myself.  
  
"She's hyperventilating." Someone says. Really? That's what this is? Can't say   
that I like it much. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get any of that vital   
oxygen stuff into my lungs. I start to see little black spots.  
  
"Kira, come back inside." Stefan's voice is gentle and soothing as me and my ragged   
breaths are led back into the shop. I can feel the tears escaping now and my hitched   
breathing becomes even more pronounced. He's going to die. The man whose heart   
I was manually beating is going to die. Suddenly I can't breathe at all. I press a   
hand frantically against my own chest as if to announce to my lungs that they are   
free at any time to start working again.  
  
"Kira!" I look up wildly and see Stefan trying to get my attention.  
  
"Just calm down and breathe." Yeah right, easy for you to say. I feel myself being   
urged onto a bench and my head gently pushed downwards between my legs.  
  
"Lunch bag!" Someone shouts triumphantly as a crisp brown bag is placed against   
my mouth and nose. It smells vaguely of tuna fish and Doritos. I hate tuna fish.  
  
Within a few moments I have calmed down enough to hold the bag myself. It takes   
a good three to four minutes before I can breathe comfortably again. So that's   
hyperventilating, eh? Nasty.  
  
I let out a long shaky breath and look up for the first time. The shop is nearly empty   
now. Stefan hands me a tissue as he takes the bag from my clasped hands. I   
hastily wipe my eyes.  
  
"Where is everyone?" I ask.  
  
"We thought, given the circumstances, Chuck wouldn't mind if we closed the doors   
for a half hour or so." I nod. Chuck is a good guy. I doubt we would have had that   
option if we were a big commercial chain.  
  
"You going to be all right Kira?"  
  
"Peachy." I say bitterly. That man was already dead wasn't he? Stefan seems to   
know exactly what I'm thinking.  
  
"You don't know that Kira. He might make it you know. You might have saved his   
life." Maybe. I'm not quite ready to believe that yet. With a hand from Stefan, I   
stand up and take another deep breath. Out of the corner of my eye I spy the man's   
cell phone still lying peacefully on the table.  
  
"He was talking with someone right before he collapsed." I say as I reach for the   
phone. I might not have been able to rouse the man out of his... whatever he was   
in. But I could let his wife/lover/daughter know where he is.  
  
I switch the phone on and press *69. I had only used the feature once before, but if   
ever there was a reason to know exactly who called you last; this was it. I frown as   
I hear an automated voice inform me that the number I have dialed cannot receive   
outside calls.   
  
"Shit." I stare at the small Nokia phone in my hand and begin accessing the guy's   
saved numbers. He was talking to someone named 'Sam' and I was hoping that   
number was saved in his phone book. As I began scrolling few the few numbers   
(didn't the guy have any friends?) I had to repeatedly tell myself that the odds that   
he was talking to the one Sam I know was very, very slim.  
  
George, Mark... Bingo! Sam. There were actually two Sam entries and I decide to go   
with the one marked 'Sam-wk'. It *was* 11 o'clock in the morning after all. Odds   
are the lady was at work. Of course, the conversation I overheard indicated she was   
about to go on a trip, but seeing as less than 30 minutes had passed since... what   
was this guy's name anyhow?  
  
Before calling the mysterious Sam, I decided to attempt to find out who the   
mysterious stranger was. (And I mean was as in 'was here' not 'was alive') I press   
a few more buttons and access his cell phone number. I then walk briskly up to the   
counter and grab the phone hidden underneath the register. I dial the displayed   
number and hold my breath.  
  
The cell phone's ringer sounds unusually harsh in the still coffee shop. Thankfully   
the answering message picked up after three rings.  
  
"You're reached Jacob Carter. Leave a message." Suddenly my legs lose all ability   
to hold my body upright; I stumble blindly towards a chair and eye the discarded   
brown bag with nervousness. Already I could feel my breath becoming trapped in   
my throat once again.  
  
"Kira, what is it?" Stefan asks worriedly. I could only stare at him in numb shock.   
Jacob Carter. Carter.   
  
Sure it's a common name. But add to Mr. Carter's identity the fact that he knows   
someone, IN THE AIR FORCE by the name of Sam and I suddenly have no desire   
what so ever to dial Sam-wk. There's no way I can explain all of this to Stefan. I   
just shake my head and grip the cell phone even harder.  
  
Taking a deep breath I press the call button and bite my lip as the numbers quickly   
dial automatically. One ring. Two. And then..  
  
"Captain Samantha Carter is unable to come to the phone. Please leave a message   
or dial 0 for more options." I hear the loud beep and instantly hang up. It's her. Oh   
God, it's her.   
  
Sam only says her name, the rest was an automated message, but her voice is   
unmistakable. This is the Captain Sam that I know. Which means Jacob Carter is   
almost assuredly her father.  
  
Oh God.  
  
"Kira?" I wave Stefan away and close my eyes. Had it really been only 30 minutes   
since I first started people watching?  
  
I need to leave a message. Should I do it at work or home? Or both? Should I dial   
'0' and try and contact someone else? I instantly think of Jack and Daniel, but   
realize that if Sam's away on an Air Force job, odds are Jack and Daniel are too.   
Still, I try the central Cheyenne number and ask for Colonel Jack O'Neill. I get an   
answering message that sounds eerily similar to Sam's. I try again and ask for Dr.   
Daniel Jackson. I still get an answering machine, but this time Daniel actually   
recorded the full message. His voice washes over me and I wish more than anything   
he'd just pick up the phone and talk to me. I decide not to try anyone else and   
redial Sam's number. Perhaps Sam has scores of friends on the base, but I have a   
funny feeling she wouldn't want Joe Soldier to be telling her about her dad. Best to   
leave a message.  
  
I press the speed dial button again and re-listen to Sam's message.  
  
"Sam, it's Kira. From Daniel's coffee shop?" My voice sounds pathetically weak even   
to me. "Um, I need you to call me when you get in. It's really important." I rattle   
off both my home number and the shop number. "It's super important Sam. Please   
call me the moment you get this." And I hang up.  
  
Perhaps it was wrong of me not to tell her about her dad, but I figure her curiosity   
would get the best of her and she'll call me the moment she hears the message.   
Which means the delay in her knowing about her dad would be very minimal. But   
what if she couldn't reach me? Was I right to withhold information from her?  
  
I turn the phone on again and dial 'Sam-hm'. "Hi Sam, it's Kira again. I just left you   
a message at work, but just in case you can't reach me, I should tell you what's   
going on. Sam, you're dad, or someone I'm assuming is your dad, had an attack of   
some sort in the coffee shop. They took him to Colorado Springs General at around   
11 am today. I don't know his condition, but feel free to call me if you need to talk.   
681-7732." I'm about to hang up before I feel the need to add a little extra.  
  
"I'm currently holding Jacob Carter's cell phone Sam. That's how I got your number.   
Hope to hear from you soon." I hang up feeling incredibly tired. I slowly stand back   
up and set the cell phone gingerly down on the table.  
  
"I'm heading home now." I say to no one in particular.  
  
"I already called you a cab Kira, they should be here any minute."  
  
"Why?" I ask. I live less than two miles from the shop and usually bike into work.  
  
"You're in no condition to bike." Stefan says simply. "Your quick thinking may have   
saved a man's life today Kree, and that's pretty heavy stuff."  
  
"I may not have saved him Stefan." I feel the waterworks threatening to come back   
in full force. I close my eyes tightly until the feeling passes.   
  
"You might not have Kira, but you sure tried. You didn't panic and you did what was   
necessary without going all hysterical- none of the rest of us could have pulled that   
off." I shrug. Bet someone would have if I hadn't been there. People find the most   
amazing strength when needed. A loud honk shakes both of us out of our serious   
discussion.  
  
"Go home Kira. Take a bath. Have a hot fudge sundae." I smile weakly. I was   
thinking more along the lines of curling up into a small ball and having a good cry.  
  
"Thanks for your help Stefan." I say quietly gathering my things together.  
  
"Anytime." I head towards the door and turn around as I suddenly remember   
something.  
  
"If Daniel or Jack comes in..."  
  
"The boy-man with the pouty lips or the military hunk with the great ass?" I laugh   
and nod.  
  
"I'll tell them what happened Kira." Stefan says gently. And with that I get into the   
cab and head for home.  
  
Please be ok Jacob Carter.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
a/n Sniff. Had a need to be a little angsty. Sorry!  
  
Yes, I know that Jacob winds up in a military hospital, but in my spiel, he first gets   
taken to a civilian one. And Yep- Kira is indeed called 'Kree' by her friends. Not   
often or anything but the nickname is indeed there. You can just imagine the fun   
I'm going to have with that once Jack and Daniel overhear... *g* 


	15. Meritorious Service

15- Meritorious Service  
  
44 hours. That's how long it had been since General Jacob Carter (Retired) had   
scared the hell out of me and nearly died in my arms.   
  
And to think I have been accused of being a drama queen… Thing is, this time I'm   
not exaggerating what so ever; the man really *did* nearly die in my arms. The fact   
that he's the dad of a woman I actually know makes the whole thing completely   
surreal. That career as a world-class surgeon is *so* out. How do those guys do it?   
I take a deep breath as I round the final corner towards the store.   
  
It's 5:35 in the morning and not too surprisingly, I have now gone two nights   
without a decent night's sleep. Wednesday night I didn't even try. I kept waking up   
and checking my voice mail for any messages from Captain Sam. The next day I   
just went through the motions. I had found out (through rather dubious,   
underhanded means I admit) that Jacob Carter, Retired General of the United States   
Air Force, survived the trip to CS General but was later moved to the military   
hospital at his request. I took great comfort in the words 'at his request.'  
  
But I could find nothing out from the military hospital. Zip.  
  
I tried calling Sam twice more, but didn't bother to leave additional messages. Her   
father was in the hospital for God's sake; if she had gotten my message she was   
probably with him. And if she hadn't, then she would the moment she got home.   
Neither Daniel nor Colonel Jack seemed to be at the base either (I only tried once   
more) so I was pretty certain all of them were out gallivanting around the world   
somewhere; maybe in the Middle East? It had to be someplace exotic in order for   
Daniel's linguistic skills to come in handy. This is ridiculous Kira! I shake my head   
and force myself to stop thinking about the whole thing. At least for the next five   
minutes or so.  
  
I am awfully glad it's so early in the morning and that I could probably find my way   
to the store in my sleep. I let out a little sigh as I spy the familiar brick and glass   
building; time to start earning my pay. Just as I am about to dismount, I realize   
with surprise that there is someone standing outside the store. I am used to the odd   
customer arriving a few minutes before the 6am opening, but seldom do I see   
anyone this early. I frown slightly as I get off my bike and walk towards the blurred   
image. Yes, I admit it; I cycle without my glasses. It isn't like I can't make out the   
stoplights or street signs; it's just the finer details that are a bit blurred. What can I   
say? I can afford a nice pair of normal glasses, but can't justify biker lenses. Have   
you any idea how much those things cost?! And at 5:30 in the morning, a bicyclist   
doesn't really want to ride about with the cold wind blowing through her eyes…  
  
Luckily there really isn't anyone about to see me biking through town in my Uncle   
Ray's Workman's Protection sample eyewear. The glasses (I *believe* they can be   
considered glasses) were free and cover nearly half my face. Naturally the moment I   
step off the bike, the glasses are thrown into my gear bag.  
  
I am less than 20 feet away when I recognize who I'm looking at- Captain Sam. I   
nearly stop in my tracks but realize there really are better options. I could blame my   
lack of manners on lack of sleep, or the fact that it was so bloody early, but that   
wasn't the reason why I suddenly found myself near mute. What the hell was I   
going to say to her? What if her dad is dead and she's come here to yell at me?  
  
"Hi Kira." Sam says somewhat shyly as she smiles slightly at my disheveled   
appearance and bicycle. The fact that a) she was here and b) she wasn't crying told   
me that her dad was alive. I suddenly found a very heavy weight had been lifted   
from my shoulders. Now if I could just find my voice…  
  
"I hope you don't mind my dropping by so early." Sam continued. She looked   
slightly chilled standing there in a pair of jeans and dark gray sweater. A well-used   
leather jacket was wrapped tightly across her waist. Absently I wondered how long   
she had been waiting.  
  
Come on Kira, you can do it. Quit staring at the lady like she's an alien and say   
something!  
  
"Not at all Sam." I say with obvious relief in my voice. "How's your dad?"  
  
"That's what I wanted to talk with you about." Sam says guardedly shoving her   
hands into her jacket. For the life of me, I can't read her face. "Can I come in for a   
few minutes?"  
  
"Sure." I say as I unlock the front door and hold it open so that Sam can walk   
through first. My bike and I follow and I take a moment to stash it in the back room.   
I quickly turn on the overhead lights and grab a till from the safe. The shop smells   
rich and exotic and I realize that someone forgot to seal one of the coffee bins the   
night before.  
  
"I hope you don't mind talking while I ready the store for opening." I say as I set   
down the till by the cash register and start pulling upside down chairs off the tables.  
  
"I won't take up a lot of your time Kira." Out of the corner of my eye I   
surreptitiously watch Captain Sam as I finish righting the chairs and start brewing   
the first pots of coffee. I still can't quite figure out what's going on with her. She is   
obviously very tired and I *know* her dad must have something to do with that.   
But there's something else there. I just can't put my finger on it.  
  
The coffee is on, the cash is counted and still Sam and I have yet to talk.  
  
"Kira, come sit down for a second." I shake my head as I run hot water through the   
espresso machine components.  
  
"Standing's good." I say as I continue wiping down the espresso machine. I don't   
know why I'm being like this. Sam is here to tell me what happened to her dad and   
I desperately want to know. I am just petrified that it is something bad. But it can't   
be right? I mean, Sam wouldn't be here if her dad was dying in a hospital bed   
someplace.. would she?  
  
"Kira- Sit." You know for a good-looking blonde lady, Sam seems to have picked up   
that commanding voice thing pretty well. Absently I wonder if Colonel Jack had   
anything to do with it. With a heavy sigh I pour Sam a cup of freshly brewed coffee   
and grab myself a plastic container of orange juice.  
  
"Its French Roast." I say setting the steaming cup of coffee down next to Sam.  
  
"Daniel's favorite." Sam says with a smile as she breathes in the heady aroma. She   
takes a sip, lets out a contented sign and looks at me oddly.  
  
"You don't drink coffee Kira?" I shake my head.  
  
"Weird, I know. But I do love the smell." Sam chuckles.   
  
"Kira, you should see Daniel on long missions. He positively fantasizes about fresh-  
brewed coffee! The longer we're in the field, the more frequent your name comes   
up."  
  
I couldn't help it, I suddenly found myself blushing. Daniel mentions my name while   
'in the field'? Wow. I absorb that information for a heartbeat before I realize that I   
haven't the foggiest idea where Daniel goes. What he really does up there in   
Cheyenne Mountain. He goes on missions? Isn't that a military thing? Sam reads   
my confused expression instantly.  
  
"Sorry Kira, I can't tell you anything more than that." She says sincerely apologetic.  
  
"Let me guess, it's classified." I say shaking my head in exasperation. Sam nods.   
These military sorts are *so* secretive! Sometimes I feel like I'm in an X-Files   
episode. Maybe even an extra in the damn series!   
  
I had procrastinated long enough. "How's your dad Sam?" I say forcing myself to   
look into Sam's eyes and not the wood grain of the table.  
  
"He's really ok Kira." Sam says giving me a small smile. "It was touch and go for a   
while there, but he's making a full recovery."  
  
"Are you sure Sam? I mean, he was pretty sick yesterday. How can the doctors be   
certain he'll be ok?" Sam cupped the ceramic coffee mug with both hands and   
seemed to contemplate her answer.  
  
"My dad has cancer Kira. He knew it was serious but didn't realize how serious until   
he collapsed yesterday." Sam let out a small, strangled sound and quickly adjusted   
her tenses. "Is. How serious the cancer is." I nod.  
  
"Both Dad and I agree that you probably saved his life yesterday Kira." Sam says   
looking at me with bright blue eyes. I could see that she was struggling to hold her   
feelings in check as well.  
  
"So if he was seriously sick with cancer yesterday, how can you be certain he's going   
to be fine Sam?" I mentally kick myself for asking the question. I mean, maybe   
Sam's in denial or something? Who am I to break her bubble?  
  
"Dad agreed to undergo a radical cancer treatment yesterday afternoon." Sam said   
sounding a little like she had been practicing that particular phrase. "The doctors   
said that if he survived the…process.. most likely his cancer would quickly go into   
remission." Sam smiled widely as she gave me the next bit of news. "He survived   
Kira. Through unbelievably long odds, my dad survived. They're both going to be   
just fine."  
  
Both?  
  
Again, Sam could see the look of question on my face and I could tell that she was   
pissed with herself for letting that comment slip out. I tried to keep my face blank,   
but knew I had failed miserably when Sam sighed and gave me some more details.  
  
"Dad underwent the treatment with one other..person. It's totally top secret Kira,"   
Sam says heatedly. "And I should never have mentioned her participation in the   
experiment. I sincerely hope you keep that information to yourself."   
  
"Of course Sam." I say with complete honesty. There's no way I'm going to go   
blabbing around that some guy I saved is now a military guinea pig on cancer   
research. Although come to think of it, I didn't know the military were into that sort   
of thing.  
  
"Words alone can't possibly thank you for what you did yesterday Kira, but I wanted   
to personally thank you for saving my dad's life." Now I look down and study the   
wood grain. Squiggly lines.  
"Kira," Sam says again giving one of my hands a squeeze. I look up. "Dad is going   
to be away recuperating for some time, but before he left, he asked me to give you   
something." Sam reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small dark blue box   
and carefully opened it up. Inside lay a sun-shaped bronze medal with a star and   
eagle etched into the background. It was attached to a crimson and white ribbon.  
  
"Dad received this Meritorious Service Medal back in Vietnam." Sam gives an   
unlady-like snort. "He has yet to tell me the whole story, but I know this medal is   
awarded for outstanding non-combat meritorious achievement or service and it was   
very important to him that you have it Kira." Sam pushes the open box towards me   
and I lift the surprisingly heavy emblem out of it's velvety home.  
  
"I can't possibly accept this Sam." I say in a hoarse voice. My God. This is too   
much.  
  
"You can Kira." Sam says simply. "Dad was adamant about it. This medal denotes   
bravery and selflessness and we both feel this is what you have done. You saved his   
life Kira, and for that both of us are forever in your debt." A rather large lump of   
something had materialized in my throat and I swallow it painfully, still not certain if   
I should accept such a gift.  
  
"He really wants you to have this." Sam says closing my hand around the small   
medal.  
  
"You sure?" I asked again.  
  
"Absolutely." We sit in silence for several long moments before Sam gives my   
slightly shaking hand a squeeze and stands up. She points towards the clock. "I   
think it's just about time for you to open."  
  
"I guess so." I say standing myself. My eyes are still fixed pointedly on the small   
medal in my hands.  
  
"I should be going." Sam says and she walks towards the front door. I finally shake   
myself out of my self-induced trance and call out.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Can you thank your dad for me?" A brief look of sadness flashes across her face   
before she smiles.   
  
"The next time I see him, I promise I will."  
  
"Will he ever be back in Colorado Springs?"   
  
"I hope so Kira." Sam says with emotion. I realize that Sam is at the end of her   
rope both emotionally and physically. She must have been up all night with her dad   
at the hospital. I wonder if she is heading home or back to work.  
  
"If he ever is, could you bring him by the shop? I would love to thank him in   
person."  
  
"I promise to try Kira."  
  
"Ok."  
  
"Have a good day." Sam says as she opens the door and steps out into the cool   
sunshine.  
  
"I will now." I say as the door softly closes behind her. I'm still clutching the bronze   
medal to my chest as the door opens again with my first customer. I quickly put the   
prized object into my apron and greet my morning regular with a genuine large   
smile.  
  
It was going to be a good day.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N- I don't really know that much about military medals, but hope I did enough   
research to nail the Meritorious Service medal down correctly. This was a hard   
vignette to write as I was unsure how to wrap up the whole Kira/Jacob thing, but   
recognized the need to do so. Hopefully this works. Special thank you to my beta-  
reader Kath for helping to iron out some rough spots. Your advice was MUCH   
appreciated girl.  
  
Kira gets to meet both Teal'c AND Cassie in the next one. And it looks like it's going   
to be damn funny. ~dcc 


	16. A Walk in the Park

A/N: Be forewarned! The following is damn funny and I will not be help responsible   
if you get in trouble while reading this at work. 'Nuff said.  
  
A/N 2: This is actually a repost as Mz. Lizzy spotted a boo-boo and I just *had* to   
correct. Thanks Liz.  
  
16- Walk in the Park  
  
It's the first week of November and here I am currently running in circles around   
Memorial Park. Somehow I don't think I'm living up to my IQ potential here. How   
the hell was I talked into a Thanksgiving 10K run, I'll never know. I mean, it isn't   
like we're living in California or something here. November 6th in Colorado Springs is   
freakin' cold!   
  
So why don't I stop?  
  
Because I'm vain. Vain, vain, vain. I said I'd run this 10k and I'll be damned if I'm   
going to back out because it's cold enough to… Put it this way, if I wasn't wearing a   
polypro turtleneck and 200-weight fleece vest, the whole world would be able to see   
just how bloody cold it really is. On the plus side, I'm currently being highly   
entertained.  
  
My friend knows how much I don't like to run. Or rather, how inexperienced I am at   
running (her words, not mine). And so she made me a CD. A very, very amusing   
CD. I started the run with the theme song from the television show Wonder Woman,   
moved on to some Shaun Cassidy and Fleetwood Mac, and am now listening to the   
final strains of Jimmy Buffet and Gonzo (of the Muppets) singing 'Spaceman'. If you   
gotta run, doing so while laughing is the way to go.  
  
I make the decision that whatever song comes up next that will be my final 2-4   
minutes of the day- I'm wiped. I think I've gone about 5 miles. I round the SW   
corner of the park and eye a fountain a good 400 meters away. That's my new   
official ending point.   
  
I had just started pushing myself (it was my final ¼ mile after all) when the next   
song comes on. I have to force myself to continue running and not stop in order to   
laugh up a lung. What's playing you ask? Oh that would be the theme song to   
Rocky. A rather fitting conclusion wouldn't you say?  
  
I pour everything I have into those final 200 meters. I feel like my lungs are about   
to burst and I doubt my legs have EVER moved that fast in their entire life, but the   
song just eggs me on. Faster and faster I run until I am certain the entire park must   
be staring at me in utter disbelief. I tag the edge of the fountain, pull off my   
headphones and crumple to the ground gasping and wheezing. It is several seconds   
later before I hear the clapping.  
  
Clapping?   
  
"Way to go Kira!" Daniel?  
  
"Ms. Meyers, are you certain you don't want to try a career in the military? We can   
use athletic people like you." Colonel Jack?  
  
"God Jack, don't scare the poor girl."  
  
"What's wrong with the military Daniel? And careful what you answer, I'm not above   
ratting you out to Carter."  
  
"Nothing's wrong with the military Jack.." Daniel paused for a moment. "Actually   
there's a lot of things wrong with the military, but that's not the point here. I think if   
Kira wanted to enroll.."  
  
"Enlist"  
  
"*Enlist*, she'd have already done so."  
  
"Not too late though." Jack paused. "For Kira that is. You're nearly too old."  
  
"Thanks Jack."   
  
I finally get my asthmatic sounding breathing under control and lift my face up from   
its resting place against my knees.   
  
"What are you guys doing here?" I ask. It is just way too weird seeing Daniel out of   
his natural coffee habitat. Both Jack and Daniel are dressed in jeans, but Daniel has   
a thick REI coat on over a sweater of some sort while Jack looks to be wearing an old   
army jacket. He has a baseball cap on that says 'Snakes Suck' (nice touch). I find   
myself chuckling.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" Daniel asks as he offers me a hand up.  
  
"Jack's baseball cap." I reply.  
  
"See? I told you it was funny!" I turn around to see a teenage girl dressed in blue   
overalls. Whoa! Who's the kid?  
  
"Hello." I say to the young teenage girl standing beside Colonel Jack.   
  
"Hi." She says somewhat shyly in return.  
  
"Kira, this is Cassie." Colonel Jack says introducing me to the slim brown haired girl   
next to him. Whoa. Jack has a kid?!  
  
"Cass, this is our friend Kira."  
  
"You have friends outside of the SGC?" Cassie asks Jack cheekily. Definitely sounds   
like she could be his kid.  
  
"I, too have wondered the same thing Cassandra Fraiser." I scarcely have time to   
absorb the fact that Cassie is NOT Jack's daughter before my eyes widen in surprise   
at the sight of the large black man standing before me. He has to be at least 6'4 and   
he's built like a line backer! He's wearing a funny looking hat as well. It's one of   
those handmade winter caps with a big purple and white pompom on the top. Not   
the sort of thing you'd expect to see on a guy his size. He doesn't seem to find it   
odd though.  
  
"And this is…" Jack pauses as he opens his mouth only to close it again with an   
audible click. He frowns, temporarily drawing a blank on his friend's name.  
  
"Murray." Daniel says emphatically. "This is our friend Murray."  
  
"Nice to meet you both." I say giving them a smile. Cassie just giggles.   
  
"You're Daniel's Barista, aren't you?" Cassie asks. Barista, Love Slave- it's all the   
same to me.  
  
"Yeah." I nod.  
  
"Mom won't let me have coffee yet." Cassie says with a frown. "Which is totally   
lame as I used to drink something just like it back in..Toranto." She shoots Jack a   
smug look and Jack just shakes his head as he rolls his eyes. I know I missed an in-  
joke or something, but I can't help but smile myself.  
  
"You and Dr. Frasier are from Toronto?" I ask taking a large drink from my water   
bottle. Gatorade has never tasted so good.  
  
Cassie looks a little uncomfortable. "Janet adopted me last year. I grew up in   
Toronto." Obviously this isn't a topic Cassie was comfortable talking about. I give   
her a polite nod and tactfully change the subject.  
  
"So what brings you guys out to Memorial Park?"  
  
"Frisbee!" Cassie shouts holding up a rigid blue disc and throwing it clumsily at Jack.   
"Both me and T.. Murray have never played before."  
  
"So what's the verdict?" I ask eyes sparkling, absorbing Cassandra's enthusiasm   
through osmosis.   
  
"Frisbee is an excellent amusement that exercises hand eye coordination." Murray   
says solemnly. Whoa! This Murray guy is one serious honcho.  
  
"We're also using this time to show Murray around the town a little." Daniel says.   
"He only moved here last year as well."  
  
"Have you taken them up to see the Garden of the Gods?" I ask. The Garden of the   
Gods is one of Colorado's Springs better known tourist haunts; it's also a pretty   
damn cool park.  
  
"Here we go." Jack mutters beneath his breath. Cassie giggles again and I can see   
Daniel attempting to open his mouth in response when I hear Murray answer.  
  
"I do not like the name of your park Kira Meyers."  
  
"It's just a name Murray." I say straining my neck as I endeavor to look Murray in   
the eyes.  
  
"This may be so, but the designation of your park is repugnant to me." Repugnant?   
Murray speaks weird. And who the hell gets all weirded out by just a name?   
Instantly I chastise myself, because apparently I do as well. There's a new   
condominium complex being built near my apartment. The name? Tribeca. And   
that name weirds me out big time. Because Tribeca sounds too much like Treblinka   
and I had family die in that concentration camp.  
  
"That's OK." I say with complete sincerity. Murray must recognize my earnestness   
because he gives me a small nod with his head and what I *think* might be an   
attempt at a smile. Hard to say.  
  
"So where's Captain Sam?" I ask looking around.  
  
"Carter?" Jack says spinning the Frisbee on his fingertips as if it were a basketball.   
"She and Janet and all the other female officers of our base are off 'bonding'   
someplace near Aspen." I swear I could actually hear the quotation marks around   
the word bonding.  
  
"O'Neill," Murray says in a tone that I have decided is indeed his true voice. "I am   
still unclear how bondage techniques will assist the female officers of the SGC?"  
  
Oh my god. Is this guy for real? My jaw has suddenly become unhinged and I know   
I am standing before them with my mouth wide open.  
  
"That's female bonding T, not bondage." Jack says patiently as if Murray's   
misunderstanding of English was a common occurrence-, which, as I subsequently   
learn, it is.  
  
"Murray's first language wasn't English." Daniel explains looking slightly   
uncomfortable. I nod in acceptance. Bondage. I'm going to remember that one for   
later retelling.  
  
"Bonding is what the girls.."  
  
"Women, Jack." Daniel corrects.  
  
"Bonding is what *women* do when they get together and talk about *women*   
stuff." Jack explained to Murray.  
  
"Captain Carter is a formidable soldier O'Neill. Why must she gather with other   
females? Does she not discuss military strategies and ideas with us?"  
  
"She does Murray." Daniel says quickly jumping in before Jack can obviously say   
something unwittingly offensive.  
  
"But Sam spends so much time with us that every now and then it's good for her to   
gather with other like-minded female officers."  
  
Murray's brow creases slightly in thought. "But what do they discuss   
DanielJackson?" This guy has a thing for first/last name combos doesn't he?  
  
"Us." Jack says simply.  
  
"Ah come on Jack!" Daniel says a bit exasperated. "Isn't that a bit stereotypical?"  
  
"Daniel trust me on this ok? I have three older sisters and have probably been   
around the block a few more times than you. Girls get together and discuss guys-   
that's just how it works."   
  
Daniel opens his mouth in what I am sure is going to be another defensive comment,   
but all he says is, "You have sisters?"  
  
"Yes, I have sisters." Now it's Jack's turn to sound exasperated. "Come on, my   
name is O'Neill for crying out loud. Have you ever heard of an only kid in a Catholic   
family?"  
  
"You never told us you have sisters Jack."  
  
"I also never told you that my favorite color is not green Daniel." Jack offers in   
return. Oh well THAT clears things up.  
  
"I could have guessed that Jack." Daniel says with a smile.  
  
"Indeed, you have made it clear on numerous occasions that you do not appreciate   
the color green." Murray added.  
  
I suddenly whip my head around and scan the opposite end of the park. Did   
someone just call my name? All I see are pockets of people doing normal park-like   
stuff. In the far distance is one of those god-awful horse and carriage contraptions   
rented out by tourists. I turn back around.  
  
"Sorry, thought I heard my name."  
  
"I, too heard your name being called KiraMeyers." Murray says with the same   
utmost seriousness.  
  
"T has great hearing." Jack says in explanation. Now it's my turn to raise an   
eyebrow. That's the second time Jack has referred to Murray as 'T'. I watch an   
almost comical non-verbal conversation between Jack and Daniel. It consisted of   
shrugs and facial expressions.  
  
"It's a nickname I've given Murray over the years." Jack says finally in explanation.   
"Short for Mr. T." I continue to stare at him incomprehensively.  
  
"Oh for crying out loud, it wasn't that long ago!" Jack gripes. "Mr. T? As in the A-  
Team? Big black guy who liked to say 'I pity the fool' all the time?" Seeing no   
recognition on my face, Jack turns towards Daniel.   
  
"Danny, you remember Mr. T, right?"  
  
"Uh, actually Jack I don't." Jack lets out a very displeased sound. "But I have heard   
of the television show the A-Team." Daniel says quickly. "I just never watched it."  
  
"I miss Carter." Jack says whining as he spins the Frisbee even more vigorously on   
his index finger. "She'd know what I mean."  
  
"Sorry Jack, but I'm more of a Xena and Buffy girl myself." I say. Any show where   
a girl gets to kick serious ass is a show I'd watch.  
  
"You watch Buffy?" Cassie asks all excited.  
  
"Absolutely!" I reply. "Buffy is my size and totally kicks ass! Plus that Angel is guy   
is HOT!" I feel a little funny talking about *another* attractive guy when both Daniel   
and Colonel Jack are just a few feet away, but what the hell.  
  
"Angel is a muffin isn't he?" Cassie says dreamily.   
  
"Oh yeah!" I say pretending to fan myself. "And the fact that he's a vampire with a   
soul makes it so much more.. I don't know. Tragic." I laugh self-deprecatively.   
"That sounds silly, doesn't it?"  
  
"Nahhh." Cassie says shaking her head. "So," Cassie says her eyes flicking briefly   
towards Jack and Daniel. "Do you believe in vampires?"  
  
"I think so." I say nodding. "Most myths are based in fact, so i bet there is   
something vampire-like out there."   
  
"What about aliens?" Cassie asks casually.  
  
"I *definitely* believe in those." I say emphatically. "There is *no* way we're alone   
in the universe. I'll betcha we have some sort of planetary 'Do Not Disturb' sign   
posted on the outskirts of our solar system.  
  
"I wish." Jack mumbles.  
  
Cassie grins and I couldn't help but continue. Little did the young lady know that I   
could really get going with space talk. Not that i'm a fanatic or anything, I just   
sincerely believe we aren't alone out there.   
  
"I believe, a long time ago, aliens paid us a visit, deemed us too immature and   
warlike and decided to leave us alone for another couple millennia. I mean it makes   
sense, look at..."  
  
I never get to complete my sentence, for suddenly I find myself face down on the   
cold damp group with 170 pounds of lean Daniel Jackson on top of me.   
  
Absently I wonder if I was dreaming. Daniel was still slightly sweaty from his frisbee   
pick-up game and he smelled faintly of after-shave and something else I couldn't   
place. Essence of Daniel perhaps? Whatever it is, I seem to find it quite nice.   
Actually a little too nice if you know what I mean.  
  
I quickly squelch that line of thinking and focus on the problem at hand. *Why* the   
hell was I thrown to the ground? I mean finding oneself pinned beneath the always   
delectable Daniel Jackson is great for a gal's libido, but seriously, I don't think this   
was something Daniel had planned on doing; which begs of course the question why.  
  
Only a few seconds had passed and I could still feel Daniel's heart racing wildly   
against my back. He was breathing shallowly through his mouth and it was tickling   
the stray hairs on the on the back of my neck. Not an altogether unpleasant   
sensation but his reaction here was freaking me out. Whatever caused him to knock   
me down must have scared the hell out of him! I couldn't think of any other reason   
why his heart rate should be so high.   
  
"Uh Daniel?" I say in a muffled voice as I awkwardly turn my head to one side to get   
a better view of the world around me. I mean, who knows? Perhaps Daniel knocked   
me down to prevent me from getting beamed by a stray baseball or something.   
  
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Murray (Mr.T!) standing ramrod straight   
scanning the area behind us. His arms are positioned in such a way that it appears   
as if he is holding something. There isn't anything there though.  
  
"It is clear O'Neill." Murray says with stoic seriousness. I hear Cassie let loose a   
shuddering breath and realize she is almost completely covered by Colonel Jack's   
body. For whatever reason Daniel saw fit to throw me to the ground, Jack had   
decided to envelop Cassie in his arms so that the smaller teenager nearly   
disappeared in his embrace. His chin rested protectively against the top of her head   
and she was pulled tightly against his chest. Both were crouched low to the ground.  
  
Jack looked up from his protective position and eyed the horizon with concern.   
Suddenly his face breaks out into a wry grin.  
  
"At least our reflexes are good." Jack says in explanation as he helps Cassie to her   
feet. The young woman is obviously very shaken by the turn of events and suddenly   
bursts into tears.   
  
"Shhh, Cass." Jack says soothingly as he pulls Cassandra into his arms again and   
begins rubbing her back. "We just over-reacted." Cassie says something I can't   
hear and Jack takes the opportunity to lead her several feet away from Daniel,   
Murray and I.   
  
"Are you ok?" Daniel asks as he helps me to my feet.  
  
"I'll live." I say brushing patches of damp dirt from my running attire.  
  
"I'm really sorry about that Kira." Daniel says apologetically. "And you deserve an   
explanation." I nod. You bet your sweet bootee I do.  
  
Daniel looked pained. "And I really want to tell you but…" Suddenly his face   
brightened up considerably. "And I really want to tell you why."  
  
"No you don't Daniel." Jack says coming backhand in hand with a much calmer   
Cassandra Frasier.  
  
"Yes I do Jack."  
  
"Daniel." Jack says in a dangerously low voice. The kind of voice my mom uses only   
before the grounding begins.  
  
"Jack." Daniel says in return holding his own.  
  
"No Daniel." Jack says in what I remember to be his Colonel voice.  
  
"Don't you think Kira deserves to know *why* she was thrown to the ground Jack?"  
  
"Probably." Jack concedes. "But you," he continues pointing a finger at Daniel "are   
not the person to tell her."   
  
I suddenly find myself in the middle of a ping-pong match.  
  
"Uh guys, it's ok. Really." I say holding up my hands in the universal peace   
position.  
  
"I'm going to tell her Jack." Daniel says matter of factly.  
  
"No you're *not* Daniel." Jack says adamantly in return.  
  
Before the arguing could get much further I hear my name being called; clearly this   
time.  
  
"Kira!" Stefan says running towards me.  
  
"Hey Stefan."   
  
"Are you all right?" He asks worriedly eyeing Murray with obvious apprehension.   
  
"Why wouldn't I be?"   
  
"Because I saw you get tackled by Professor Yummy here." Out of the corner of my   
eye I see Daniel blush and hear Jack chuckle. Stefan leans conspiraously towards   
me and whispers in my ear, "Is he as hard as he looks?"  
  
"Stefan!" I shout, taking a step away from him and turning red myself.  
  
"I'm just saying the guy looks like he must work out." Stefan says innocently giving   
Daniel the once-over.  
  
"Why are you here Stefan?" I say finally.  
  
"I'm doing the tourist thing with my new boyfriend," he points to a hunky looking   
Asian man in a nearby horse drawn carriage. "And have been trying to get your   
attention for the last half hour! You didn't hear me the first time because of those   
damned head phones but I called your name again not 15 minutes ago and you   
*again* ignored me!" Stefan doesn't like to be ignored as if you hadn't figured that   
out already.  
  
"So finally I just said to hell with Mr. Nice Guy and shouted your name at the top of   
my lungs. The next thing I know you're down on the ground covered by Dr. Do Me."  
  
I hear Daniel coughing uncontrollably at my side. Again Stefan leans closer in and   
whispers into my ear, "that's *my* fantasy Kira." He admits before standing back   
up.  
  
"Anyhow, I need to skedaddle, I just wanted to make sure you're ok."  
  
"I'm fine Stefan." I say giving him a shove into the direction of his awaiting   
boyfriend. "Your carriage awaits!" Stefan gives a little hand wave and trots back   
towards his boy of the moment.  
  
"Sorry about that." I say apologetically turning towards Daniel.  
  
"Your name is Kree?" Jack asks with a mixture of incredulousness and disdain. "As   
in rhymes with brie- Kree?"  
  
"Yea-aaah." I say slowly nodding. "It's a nickname." Jack continues to stare at me in   
utter disbelief. What's the big deal?  
  
"Kree." Jack says once again in a resigned voice as he slowly shakes his head.   
"Daniel, out of the hundred of baristas in the Colorado Springs area, you just   
*happen* to find the only girl in town who just *happens* to have a nickname of   
Kree?!" Jack makes a tutting sound. "Only you Daniel."  
  
"Ok, now I DO want an explanation." I say finding my backbone. Screw their   
secretive military crap- this is just too odd not to find out why.  
  
Before Jack can voice his dissent, Daniel blurts out, "Conditioning."   
  
Huh?  
  
"Conditioning." Daniel says nodding as he meets Jack's eye. Jack give a resigned   
shrug and motions Daniel to continue.  
  
"What I am about to tell you is not to be taken lightly Kira, and all of us would   
appreciate it if you don't share this with others."  
  
"Of course Daniel."   
  
"The military is experimenting with language conditioning and the reactions it can   
provoke in soldiers. As you know in addition to being an Archaeologist and   
Anthropologist, I am also a bit of a Linguist." I nod.  
  
"As you are probably aware, every country has different words that are used to   
convey 'stop', 'attack', 'retreat' and so forth. I have helped develop a language that   
can be widely understood by ALL militaries across the planet."  
  
I swear I hear Jack mumble, "That's good Danny."  
  
"Anyhow," Daniel says shooting Jack an enigmatic look. "In this new language,   
'Kree' conveys the meaning of 'enemy attacking' or 'danger, watch out'. When   
Murray, Jack and I heard your nickname being shouted so fiercely across the park,   
we instantly reacted as we were trained."  
  
I ponder Daniel's explanation for several moments. It basically makes sense, but I   
still get the feeling Daniel isn't telling me the whole story here. But then again, he   
really doesn't need too. And obviously isn't supposed too.  
  
"I'll buy that." I say finally. "But I still request reparation for being so   
unceremoniously thrown to the ground."  
  
"Name it." Daniel says earnestly.  
  
"Breakfast." I say with a wide smile.  
  
"IHOP!" Cassie screams. Seriously. The girl *screamed* the word IHOP.  
  
"I too would enjoy a Belgian waffle at The International House of Pancakes." Murray   
says.  
  
"IHOP it is." Jack says with a flourish as he waves his hand in the direction of the   
nearest park exit.  
  
"You sure you don't want to try something new Murray?" Daniel asks.  
  
"I am curious about this 'Pigs in a blanket' food item." Murray concedes.  
  
"This should be interesting." Jack mutters under his breath.   
  
I just grin. Breakfast with Daniel AND Colonel Jack. I should train for 10ks more   
often.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
More Authors' Notes: Believe it or not, there really is a Memorial Park in Colorado   
Springs. But that of course isn't the funny part; there is also a Garden of the Gods.   
As soon as I found that out, I knew exactly what I needed to do. Please let me know   
if you enjoyed this little ditty. I worked long and hard at trying to make it as funny   
as possible without going too over the top.   
  
Pigs in a blanket: A er.. quaint American dish consisting of sausages wrapped in   
pancakes. Really! 


	17. Breakfast at IHOP

17- Breakfast at IHOP  
  
A/N: Bowing under the barrage of requests to continue the story at IHOP, I'm doing just that.   
BUT me being me, I had to do something a little different. SO, instead of telling the   
story from Kira's point of view, it'll be from Jack's. If this works, I might try it from   
Daniel's point of view at some future date but this change of viewpoint won't be a regular   
occurrence. Reviews will be* much* appreciated.  
  
And yes, you'll see a little jab at myself included in here. You'll recognize it when you see it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. An accident-prone archaeologist, a   
Jaffa warrior, an alien orphan and yours truly taking a coffee shop girl to breakfast.   
A coffee shop girl with absolutely no military clearance what so ever. This should be   
interesting.  
  
In front of me I notice Daniel talking animatedly to both Kira and Cassie. Doesn't   
matter what planet we're on, Daniel always seems to be surrounded by girls! Maybe   
it's his after-shave? Some day I'm going to ask Carter what Daniel has that makes   
women go all mooney around him. Not that he'd notice or anything.  
  
"You are pensive O'Neill." Teal'c says next to me.  
  
"N'ah." I say shaking my head. "Just thinking." Teal'c raises one of his patented   
eyebrows at me. Daniel and Carter usually just roll their eyes at this point and   
sometimes I wonder if they really do think I don't know what I'm saying. But   
Teal'c knows. He's a damn smart guy actually, despite the snake in his gut. He's   
the only person I know who can speak volumes with just one flick of his eyebrow.  
  
Do eyebrows flick?  
  
I shake myself out of my random thoughts and concentrate on the problem at hand.   
Yes, I said problem. Kira Meyers is joining us for breakfast. Now don't get me   
wrong, Kira is a really great girl. Really. She saved Daniel's butt (and probably   
delayed the onset of my gray hair by at least a few weeks) on more than one   
occasion and literally brought Jacob back from the brink of death. She's smart as a   
whip and although she knows something a little hinky is going on over at Cheyenne   
Mt. she is content to let us double-talk her if necessary. I wasn't kidding when I   
mentioned her joining the military; she'd be a wonderful asset.   
  
But I know it won't happen; Kira has already been seduced. And no, I'm not talking   
about the wiles of Daniel Jackson here. But rather by books and education. It's a   
sad but true fact- most of the really smart kids end up in the private sector. Better   
paying jobs. Hmmm. Maybe I'll have Carter chat with her. If there is one person   
on this planet who gives Daniel a run for his money on smarts, it's Carter. AND   
she's military.   
  
Of course, the fact that Kira probably weighs 100 pounds soaking wet would   
probably mean she wouldn't make the best field soldier. I can already hear Daniel's   
voice telling me not to be a sexist pig. I'm a hell of a lot of things, but sexist I'm   
not; I'm just stating a fact. I'm sure Doc Frasier would agree with me that on   
strength alone, (we'll forget the different experience levels on hand to hand combat)   
Sam would kick her ass. I smile at the image of Doc and Carter sparring.   
  
"What's so funny Jack?"  
  
Oops. Didn't realize Daniel had fallen back from his fan club.  
  
"Nothing." I reply. "Just wondering what Carter and the rest of the SGC ladies are   
up too."  
  
"And that made you smile?"  
  
"I'm a happy go-lucky guy Daniel."  
  
"Riiigght."  
  
"We're here!" Cassie says enthusiastically as she shoves the door of the restaurant   
open. In most aspects Cassie acts like a normal American teenager. But every now   
and then I'm reminded that she really didn't grow up around here. Her enthusiasm   
for American chain restaurants for one thing. Usually it's 6, 7, or 8 year olds who   
gush over restaurants and going out to eat. By the time they hit puberty the thrill is   
gone. Or so I've been told. I forcibly push the thought of Charlie never reaching   
puberty firmly out of my brain.  
  
"I'm going to wash up." Kira says as she excuses herself. Good! A chance to lay   
down the law; make sure everyone realizes that Kira is NOT a member of the SGC.   
Not that we'd talk openly about what we do outside of Cheyenne Mountain or   
anything, but we do tend to talk about missions or aliens in a veiled sort of way   
when we go out. Can't happen today kids.  
  
The four of us are led to a back booth and are handed very large laminated menus.   
With pictures. Teal'c finds the menus nearly as fascinating as Cassie. Aliens! Can't   
take 'em anywhere. I open my mouth to talk but Daniel beats me to the punch.  
  
"Cassie, are you sure you're ok?" Daniel asks taking the young girl's hand and   
giving it a light squeeze. "I know being suddenly knocked to the ground by Jack can   
be pretty scary."  
  
"And he knows this from experience Cass." I add helpfully. Daniel isn't amused.   
Hey! At least I didn't bury his head into my chest! Although come to think of it, I've   
done a little of that as well.   
  
Cassie shrugs. "It happened pretty quick Daniel- I just over-reacted a little after it   
was all over." Cassie says sighing.   
  
"Your actions were very normal Cassandra Frasier." Teal'c says in his no-nonsense   
just-the-facts-ma'am voice.  
  
"I probably was responsible for freaking you out more than anything Cass." I say   
seriously. I know that covering Cassie's body with my own must have seriously   
wigged her out. I mean Cassie, is what? 4'10? And here I am nearly a foot and a   
half taller than her, that's gotta be a little intimidating. All I can say in my defense is   
that it was completely instinctive. It's like parents and kids in cars. The car stops   
short and dad thrusts his hand out in hopes of preventing the kid from bashing into   
the dash board. We know the kid is using a seat belt, but yet we still do it. That's   
how it was with Cassie. Actually, I'm a bit like that with Daniel as well, but I'm not   
going to tell him that. All I know is that there was no way I was going to allow a   
Goa'uld to get to Cass. None. They would literally have to go through me. The fact   
that we were on Earth was just a little something I forgot.   
  
As did everyone else at this table; which reminds me...  
  
"You just had to tackle her, didn't you Daniel?" Cassie gives another small giggle   
and all eyes turn to 'Ladies Man' Jackson. Actually I might have to change that.   
Apparently whatever pheromone (yes, I know the word pheromone) Danny   
possesses isn't gender exclusive. I quickly file that away for future ribbing.  
  
"Jack.." Daniel begins turning red. I'm telling you, the kid can blush on a dime.  
  
"Actually Danny, you did good." I say sincerely. "I know you may not like to admit   
it, but you really are turning into a decent soldier."  
  
"Thanks Jack." Daniel says ducking his head. Have I mentioned that Daniel doesn't   
take compliments well?  
  
"BUT, your little stunt did nothing to squelch the crush Kira has on you."  
  
"Kira does not have a crush on me!" Daniel says indignantly.   
  
I am not the only person at the table who rolls his eyes. "Wake up and smell the   
French roast Daniel; Kira totally has a total crush on you."  
  
"Jack, just stop it! She does not."  
  
I look to Cassie for support; she nods. "I think she does Daniel."  
  
"Not you too!"  
  
"Cassie, you have a crush on Daniel as well?" Cassie giggles. Although I wouldn't   
put it past the kid (and I'm talking about Daniel here not Cassie) to affect Cass as   
well, in this case I'm pretty certain Cassie views Daniel as an older brother and not a   
romantic interest. God I hope so.   
  
"I was just agreeing with you Jack!" Cassie says giving me a toothy smile. She   
turns towards Daniel. "But Kira does have a crush on you Daniel."  
  
"How can you think that?!" Daniel asks incredulously. "You just met Kira 30   
minutes ago."  
  
Cassie shrugs. Teenagers and their shrugs eh?   
  
"Look Daniel, the gay kid not withstanding.."  
  
"Jack!" Daniel says absolutely appalled at my choice of words.  
  
"For crying out loud Daniel! The guy is a 20-something kid and he happens to be   
gay. There is nothing derogatory about my comments!"  
  
Daniel sits and glares at me. The waitress chooses that moment to make her   
appearance. She's a chipper young woman in her mid 20's with bleached blonde hair   
(I could see dark roots) and bright pink lipstick. Thankfully I could see no   
bubblegum.  
  
"Can I get y'all something to drink?" She asks in a soft southern drawl.  
  
"Hot chocolate with lots of whip cream please." Cassie says instantly.  
  
"T?" I ask turning towards Teal'c. He is still wearing that god-awful ski cap. A   
purple pom-pom?! What the hell were they thinking! I should have known better   
than to allow Cass to help Teal'c with his hats. Thankfully not too many people are   
brave enough to make fun of a 6'3 black guy wearing a girly pom pom hat.  
  
"Water will suffice O'Neill."   
  
"He'll have a chocolate milkshake." I say making a decision. It's time Teal'c   
experienced one of life's simple pleasures- milkshakes. I know without looking that   
Teal'c is doing one of his eyebrow raise thingy's. I really wonder how he does that.   
I've tried it and let me tell you that raising a single eyebrow is damn hard.  
  
"And he and I" I say pointing to Daniel and myself. "Will take two coffees."  
  
"What about Kira Jack?" Daniel asks looking up from his menu.  
  
"Make it three coffees."  
  
"Kira doesn't drink coffee Jack."  
  
Huh? I turn towards Daniel. "She works at a coffee shop and doesn't drink coffee?   
Isn't that a little weird?" Daniel shrugs.  
  
"I'll have a diet coke please." A voice says from behind the waitress. Speak of the   
devil. Kira has obviously washed her face as well as her hands. She has that freshly   
scrubbed co-ed look to her. With her dark hair and green eyes, I bet you anything   
she has some Irish in her. Knew I liked her for a reason. Daniel squeezes closer to   
Cassie in order to make room for Kira.  
  
The waitress nods and writes down everyone's orders. "I'll be back with your drinks   
in a jiff."  
  
"Jiff?" Teal'c asks.  
  
"She'll be back quick T..Murray." Daniel replies. A little slow- but the oversight isn't   
bad considering my Mr. T explanation earlier. I cannot believe no one remembers   
the A-Team.   
  
"How come you don't drink coffee?" Cassie asks. Thank you! I was wondering the   
same thing myself.  
  
Kira looks a little embarrassed and then cocks her head slightly to the right. "Do you   
want the short or long version?" She asks.  
  
Both Daniel and Cassie say 'long' just as I say 'short'. I know Teal'c probably won't   
weigh in here so with a flick of my wrist I acknowledge that I am out-voted and   
indicate that Kira should continue. I might be the leader of the military's number   
one galactic task force, but even I know when to acquiesce. (Yes, I know words like   
acquiesce as well)  
  
"When I was a little kid I was kinda hyper." Kira begins as she plays with her   
silverware.   
  
"Sounds like someone else I know." I say giving Daniel a pointed look.  
  
Daniel pretends like he ignores me, but I can see the little twitch above his right eye.  
  
"Well, some of my grammar school teachers thought it might be best to put me on   
medication."  
  
"Like Ritalin?" Daniel asks. Before anyone can ask the question Daniel explains   
further. "Ritalin is a stimulant used to calm hyperactive children with attention   
deficit disorders."  
  
"Only works on kids huh?" I ask. This time Daniel shoots me a scathing look. I hold   
up a hand. Geesh! I was just asking.  
  
"Actually Colonel Jack.."  
  
"Jack." The girl's gotta learn that! It's Jack. Jack, Colonel, O'Neill, Colonel O'Neill or   
Sir. But not Colonel Jack. Sounds like a racehorse or something.  
  
"Actually Jack, it does." Sounds like a racehorse? Oh! She means the Ritalin.  
  
"Damn, and I was this close to getting you some help Danny." Both Cassie and Kira   
are smiling openly. Apparently I'm entertaining. I think that's why Thor likes me.  
  
"Although Ritalin is used on adults," Kira continues. "It usually isn't for attention   
deficit stuff. And the reason it isn't is because Ritalin is a stimulant and stimulants   
tend to.. well.. stimulate adults." She blushes slightly as she says this and don't   
think I missed the way she shot Daniel a quick glance. Nope. I didn't become a   
Colonel for my harmonica playing.  
  
"But it calms down kids?" I ask. Weird.   
  
Kira nods. "Yeah, it does. Usually."   
  
Our drinks arrive and I realize that we haven't even cracked the menus. "We need   
another couple of minutes." I tell the waitress.  
  
"Short version." Kira says as she opens her menu. "My mom didn't want to put me   
on some trendy drug and asked the doctors if there wasn't something else that could   
be done. They told her that a simple cup of coffee might do the trick as caffeine is   
also a stimulant."  
  
"Coffee and Ritalin are related?" I say in amazement. "Daniel, I guess you've been   
dosing up for years and didn't even know it." Again with the eye rolling! Better cut   
that out Daniel or your eyeballs will freeze that way.  
  
Kira nods again. "Yep. They're related. And so every day for three years I had a   
cup of coffee with my dad every morning. What's funny is that I honestly don't   
remember any of this. All I know is that although I love the smell of coffee, to this   
day I can't stand the taste." To make her point she took a long satisfying slurp of   
her diet coke. Ewww! It's only 10:30 in the morning and already she's drinking that   
crap?  
  
We open our menus and check out the colorful choices. Actually, seeing as there are   
pictures under most of the selections, most likely Teal'c will keep his odd-sounding   
queries to himself. Actually, I'm starting to think he only mangles up English for   
amusement. Our amusement.   
  
"Belgium waffle with fresh strawberries and whip cream." Cassie says within   
moments. Gotta love a girl who can make up her mind.   
  
"I don't think they'll be fresh strawberries Cassie." Kira adds as she pursues the   
menu herself. "Strawberries aren't in season." She adds as an explanation.  
  
"They are in New Zealand." Daniel mumbles under his breath as he awkwardly turns   
one of the menus large laminated pages. Does he ever turn his brain off?  
  
"That's ok." Cassie says as she closes her menu and waits patiently for the rest of us   
to make up our minds. Me? I'm easy. Biscuits and gravy with sausage, eggs and   
toast. Reminds me of the breakfasts my mom used to make. Except edible. Mom   
wasn't the best of cooks. But she did like to experiment with biscuits and gravy.  
  
"You know what you're having Daniel?"  
  
"Yep. Country omelet with extra hash browns." I'm a bout to ask Kira if she's ready   
when the waitress returns.  
  
"Y'all ready?" She asks. We all nod and go around the table letting her know what   
we'll have. Kira goes for French toast with a side order of fruit. She checks to make   
sure it's fresh. She also asks for a refill on her diet coke. The girl likes her fizzy   
beverages.  
  
The waitress gathers are menus and leaves.   
  
"When you get a chance, could I get a refill on the coffee Miss." Daniel asks politely.   
Sometimes I wonder how the hell he managed to stay polite. I mean bouncing   
about from foster home to foster home isn't exactly conducive to turning out polite   
kids.   
  
The waitress nods and leaves.  
  
"Have you gained a new coffee preference Daniel?" Kira asks eyeing Daniel's empty   
cup.  
  
"Kira, you have nothing to worry about. Your coffee beats their sludge hands down.   
It's just been a few days since I've had real coffee." Oops. Strike one for Daniel.   
How're you going to get out of this one Daniel? Tell Kira you were trapped on P2X-  
442 for 72 additional hours due to a freak lightening storm? I think not.   
  
Kira raises an eyebrow (both actually- nice to know she can't do it either) in   
question. And the awareness of 'Geeze, I blew it again' flashes instantly across   
Daniel's face. If I ever convince Daniel to play poker with me, I'm going to win a   
fortune!  
  
"Commissary ran out of coffee and I was stuck on base working." Daniel explains   
glibly. Wow. I'm impressed. Although I'm not sure if I like the fact that he's   
becoming so adept at lying.   
  
Kira nods but I can see that she doesn't quite buy it.   
  
"Next time you come into the shop, we'll make sure you pick up some beans for   
work." Kira says helpfully. "In fact,." She pauses and I can see the same wheel   
turning brain movement that I catch every now and then in Daniel.  
  
"Daniel, I have a great idea.!"  
  
Uh oh. I tend to get nervous when brainy people get great ideas. Carter's usually   
shock me, and Daniel's usually mean an extra day on some planet surrounded by   
trees. Kira continues on oblivious to my apprehensive look.  
  
"Every week I get a free pound of coffee."   
  
"But you don't drink coffee!" Cassie adds.  
  
"Exactly!" Kira says pointing a finger at Cass. "Usually I give the coffee to friends,   
or trade it in 1/4 pound increments for other stuff, but.."  
  
"Like what?" Cassie asks. Maybe I should step in here. Kira is what, 21? 21 and in   
college? I mean when I was 21 (and had I not already been in the military) I   
would have exchanged free coffee for beer. Others I know would have done it for   
dope. Of course, I truly doubt Kira will blurt out that she barters coffee for joints but   
you never know.  
  
"I have one friend who works in a bakery and another who's a pizza delivery driver.   
All of us get free stuff from work and we tend to trade back and forth depending on   
what we need."  
  
"Kira's a Communist Cassie." I add helpfully.   
  
"Jack!" Daniel says in his 'I'm completely shocked at you' voice. Kira laughs.  
  
"What is a Communist O'Neill?" I shoot Daniel a look. His turn to field the question.   
He shoots me back with another look. Damn; my turn.  
  
"Communists were made popular after World War II Murray. There were several   
really large countries who didn't believe in electing their leaders and decided life   
would be peachy keen if everyone just shared everything. The story does not have a   
happy ending."  
  
"I'll give you some books on it Tee..Murray." Dammit Daniel! Would you just   
remember his name! I can see the little mice running frantically through Kira's head.   
But before she can open her mouth to ask a question, the tantalizing aroma of food   
saves us. Or Daniel anyway. The waitress sets down our plates and grabs Kira's   
glass for yet another refill of diet coke. My god, how many can the girl go   
through?  
  
Daniel sighs as his coffee is refilled and dives into his breakfast with gusto. Guess   
I'm not the only one who never feels really full on MREs.  
  
"So what's your idea Kira." Daniel says in between mouthfuls. At least he swallowed   
his food before talking.   
  
"Well," Kira says after swallowing her own mouthful of French toast. "I have a   
proposition for you."  
  
I nudge Teal'c and make eye contact with Cassie. See? Proposition. Daniel isn't   
even looking at me and yet he kicks me under the table. What I'd do?!  
  
"For every paper you proof read, I'll give you a free pound of coffee." Kira   
says with a sparkle in her eye.   
Daniel takes a moment to ponder this. "I'm not always going to be available Kira." That's right. There's   
aliens to meet and Goa'uld butt to be kicked.   
  
"That's ok!" Kira says cheerfully. "But for every paper 15 pages or under that you   
proof read, I'll supply you with a pound of coffee of your choice.  
  
"Including Jamaican Mountain Blue?" Daniel asks. Jamaican wha? Sounds   
like a drug to me.  
  
Kira nods. "I can only get a pound of that a month, but it's yours for the proofing."  
  
"I think that's a fair exchange." Daniel says smiling. "What are you taking this   
quarter?"  
  
"Ancient Greek 350, Mesoamerican Civilizations, and .." Kira ducks her head slightly   
as if embarrassed. "Archaeology 101."  
  
"You haven't taken archaeology yet?!" Daniel asks incredulously. "Kira, you have   
taken advanced courses in ancient history and religion and yet you haven't taken   
any archaeology?!"  
  
"uh..no." Hmm. Maybe I was wrong about the crush. I mean if she was truly ga-ga   
for our resident rock hound, wouldn't she have enrolled in archaeology earlier?  
  
"Can I ask why?" Poor Danny. I see he isn't taking this personally at all.  
  
"All the previous classes conflicted with the other courses I wanted to take." See? A   
perfectly reasonable explanation. Daniel doesn't look convinced. Kira suddenly   
snaps her fingers. "I haven't told you yet!"   
  
"Kira, take a breath, chew your food and THEN tell Daniel what you haven't told him   
yet." Kids! Why is it the smart ones always forget about the little thing like eating   
and sleeping? I so bet Kira has lousy sleeping patterns.  
  
Kira gives me a guilty look and shovels several forkfuls of French toast into her   
mouth. She slurps on her diet coke and pops a few grapes into her mouth for good   
measure. She looks up at me as if to say, 'There, all done!' I give her a small nod   
and try not to smile.  
  
"It looks like I'm going to Egypt next fall!" Suddenly I feel a head ache coming on.   
Geeze, this girl could be the SGC poster child!  
  
"What?" Daniel asks instantly interested. Even Teal'c raised an eyebrow at her   
pronouncement.  
  
"I got accepted on an exchange program with the American University in Cairo!"   
Kira gushes. "I'll be only a few hundred miles away from where the great library of   
Alexandria stood!"  
  
"That's fantastic Kira!" Daniel says giving her a one armed hug. Kira smiles. Don't   
think I missed that blush missy.  
  
"I'll be taking Arabic next quarter and hope to do an intermediate intensive level   
language during the summer."  
  
"Ambitious much?" I ask taking a bite of an over cooked piece of bacon.  
  
"I'm kinda thinking I want to become an expert on the library of Alexandria and the   
lost tomes of the ancient world." I rolled my eyes. I just couldn't help myself.   
Hopefully Kira didn't catch it.  
  
"If these texts are lost, how can you hope to become an expert on them Kira   
Meyers?" Right! Nice catch Teal'c.  
  
"While it's true that some are honestly lost Murray, many are just sitting un-  
catalogued in university and museum libraries, while others are hidden away in   
private collections. I'd like to try and catalog everything that is still remaining and   
maybe gather them together in one place. I know there must be so much   
information to be gleaned if only we knew what was out there!"   
  
A piece of toast becomes logged in my throat and I start to cough. The girl is a   
female Daniel! Kira gives me a funny look as Teal'c hits me (hard) on the back.  
  
"Thanks Murray." I say taking a drink of water. I shoot Daniel a smug look. I   
remembered his name.  
  
The rest of the meal passes by without incident as Cassie shares with all what she is   
doing in school and Daniel actually tells a surprisingly funny story about camel   
racing. I pay for the meal on a credit card and we all get ready to go.  
  
"Thanks for the breakfast Jack." Kira says politely. Another polite kid. Maybe it's an   
IQ thing? I'll ask Carter later. Kira turns towards Cassie.  
  
"I had a nice time meeting you Cassie."  
  
"Me too Kira!" Cass says. "Maybe you can come over some time and watch Buffy   
with me. Mom still insists on adult supervision if she works late."  
  
"You mean a babysitter?" Kira asks. Cass wrinkles her nose. She so doesn't like   
that word.  
  
"Yeah." Cass grudgingly admits. "And usually if she works late that means these   
guys (she's pointing to me, Daniel and Teal'c) are working late too." Of course what   
Cass isn't saying is that often when Janet works late, it's both DUE and often ON us.  
  
"I'd love to come over and 'adult supervise' you sometime Cass." Kira says warmly.  
  
"That'd be cool." Cass says zipping up her coat.  
  
"Do you need a lift home Kira?" I ask.  
  
"Nahh, I only live a few blocks from here." Kira replies. I nod and decide not to   
insist. Had it been dark, THEN I would have insisted. Hey! I'd do it for anyone.  
  
Kira waves goodbye and sets off for home.  
  
"I still say she has a crush Daniel." I say as we head back to the park and our   
awaiting vehicles. I picked up Cass in my truck while Daniel and Teal'c met us in a   
motor pool car. Maybe one of these days Daniel will get around to buying one of his   
own.  
  
Daniel doesn't seem to have heard me; he's off in his own archaeological world   
mulling over ancient libraries and exotic sandy locations.  
  
To each his own.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
More author notes: That stuff about caffeine and Ritalin is pretty much true. Well?   
Did my Jack POV work? Let me know! 


	18. Pondering

The Barista  
Chapter 18- Pondering  
  
Tag for 215- The Fifth Race (Can anyone tell me why the word 'tag' is used to refer   
to post episodic stories?? Yeah, it's shorter than 'Post-episodic tale' but it doesn't   
really explain much, does it?)  
  
Disclaimer: I haven't said it for a while, but the only character that's mine (hee, hee-   
I own her don't I?) is Kira. Everyone else belongs to a chattel of companies   
somewhere on the west coast.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It is one of those picture postcard days here in Colorado Springs. The Rockies are all   
covered with a thick blanket of snow, the sun is shining brightly and the forecast is   
for a high of 28 F with no wind. That might sound cold to you, but up here, it's just   
perfect. All things considered, mid-January doesn't get much better than this.  
  
I'm in a good mood as I take the long way home from work. I cut through the park   
behind the University and skirt around the edge of the playground. I smile as I take   
in the guys playing Frisbee. It had been about 3 weeks since my last park foray and   
that had ended with a free breakfast! I had only seen Daniel once since then. It was   
right before the weather went all wacky last week. That (the weather, not Daniel)   
had been weird. Usually acute instances of global warming don't just stop after   
three days, but for some reason it did. Someone up there likes us, that's for sure.  
  
I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I nearly walk right past him. Actually I   
*do* walk past him but then I stop and turn back around. Yep- it's him all right.  
  
Jack O'Neill.  
  
Jack O'Neill sitting by himself on a park bench watching the world go by. He looks   
sad. The sound of children's laughter from the nearby playground seems to catch his   
attention and he turns to stare ata child being pushed on a swing. Only his eyes   
move, as he watches the little boy swing up in a high arch and then back down with   
gleefull squeals.   
  
It's a little weird to see him so still. Hell, it's a little weird to see him out here by   
himself. I may not know Colonel Jack all that well, but he strikes me as a private   
guy. The kind of guy who'd much rather hang out in the quiet of his house than in a   
noisy park. It's a little disconcerting.  
  
Well, I can't just walk past and not say hello. Well, I *could* but I'm not going too.   
I clear my throat and take a step forward.  
  
"Oh, hey Kira." Jack says off handly as he looks up and slowly takes in my presence   
before turning back towards the kids in the park. Absently I wonder if maybe one of   
those kids is his. I sit down next to him.  
  
And I surprise myself by just sitting. For several long minutes I just sit. I also take   
in the kids playing in the park, the brilliant blue of the sky and the general feeling of   
everything being ok in the universe. Maybe Jack has something here. He doesn't   
seem to mind my presence so after a few minutes, I take a moment to   
surreptitiously study him. I notice how incredibly tired he looks. He has large dark   
smudges under his eyes and he looks much older. My eyes begin to move upwards   
and suddenly I let out an audible gasp.  
  
Jack O'Neill has gone gray! There! Along the temples, he's really and truly gray.   
Actually, it's more silver than gray.. When the hell did that happen?  
  
Jack turns towards me and gives me a funny look as my cheeks grow uncomfortably   
warm. Smooth move Meyers.  
  
"Something wrong Kira?" Jack asks cocking his head slightly to one side.  
  
"Uh, no." I say in a voice slightly higher than my own natural alto.  
  
"Uh huh." Jack says clearly not believing me.  
  
"You have gray hair Jack." Might as well get it out in the open.  
  
Unselfconsciously Jack runs a hand through his short brown and silver hair and gives   
me a short chuckle. "Yeah, I've been noticing that myself lately. I'm going to blame   
it on Daniel."  
  
"What'd he do this time?" I ask smiling, hoping I'd get a story. Somehow I know   
any story told by Colonel Jack O'Neill was bound to be interesting.  
  
"More like a cumulative effect." Jack says with a small smile. He then turns back   
towards the kids. I wonder if I should leave him to his solitude. I'm just about   
ready to stand up when the sound of Jack's voice anchors me back to the bench.  
  
"Have you always been smart Kira?" Jack asks continuing to look straight ahead. I   
give him a quixotic look as I ponder his question.  
  
"Define smart." I reply. Jack laughs genuinely this time and turns to look at me.  
  
"Good in school, high IQ. You know- smart."  
  
I shrug. Well when he puts it that way.. "I guess. I mean, I'm not Mensa*   
material, but I hold my own." I say.  
  
"Carter and Daniel are smart." Jack says with a nod. A multi-lingual archaeologist   
and a PhD-toting Astrophysicist? I think 'smart' is putting it lightly.  
  
"I've never really been book-smart." Jack says softly. "I was much more interested   
in girls and cars when I was a kid." I smile. I could *so* see that.  
  
"But you're a Colonel in the United States military!" I say in rebuttal. I couldn't   
quite remember if he was Army or Air Force.  
  
Jack shrugs and does a funny hand wave as if that doesn't matter. "But I'm not   
smart. Sure I can dismantle and reassemble a P90 in less than 15 seconds, but what   
does that matter?"  
  
"When you're being chased by a big-ass bear and that gun can save your life?" I   
answer.  
  
Jack gives me another funny look. "Well sure, that might save a life or two, but   
what about solving the riddles of the universe?!" Jack says this angrily. I take a   
moment to ponder this.  
  
"Solving the riddles of the universe?"  
  
"Yeah- meaning of life stuff." Jack says with a heavy sigh. "What if you were smart   
enough to figure out the answers to all those meaning of life type questions?" I'm   
pretty sure it's a rhetorical question but I decide to answer anyway.  
  
"I heard Stephen Hawkings speak once." I say.  
  
"The guy in the wheelchair?" Jack asks.   
  
I nod. "Yeah. He was giving a lecture at CSU and I managed to get my hands on a   
ticket and attend."  
  
"Stephen Hawkings is smart." Jack concedes with a nod.  
  
"Able to solve riddles of the universe smart." I say. Jack shrugs. "But if he found   
himself on a mountain being chased by a bear, he'd be dead in seconds."  
  
"Your point?" Jack says tiredly.  
  
"There will always be people who will attempt to solve the riddles of the universe   
Jack, but without guys who can keep them safe, they'll never find the answers."  
  
"Maybe." Jack concedes. "Still being smart can be pretty cool." He says this in a   
strange, nearly nostalgic voice. Kinda like Charly from that book, Flowers for   
Algernon.**  
  
"Jack, if I were trapped on a desert island with only my history books and   
intelligence, I'd probably die of sunstroke. I don't know how to make a fire from   
scratch, where to find fresh water, how to find shelter in a driving rain- hell how to   
BUILD shelter in a driving rain. But I bet you do." Jack let out a short hmmph and   
gave me a wry smile as he gave me a small affirmative nod.   
"And you don't think that's smart?!" I say incredulously. "Hey, if trapped on an   
island of Ancient Greeks, I might be able to help you out, but only with the language   
and culture stuff. If suddenly the Greeks decided they needed me as a virgin   
sacrifice.."   
  
"Virgin, right." Jack said under his breath.  
  
"Hey!" I say giving him a sharp elbow to the ribs. "I might still be a virgin." I can't   
believe I'm saying this to him.  
  
"Kira, you're 21 years old and cute as a button, there's no way you're a virgin." I   
don't know whether to be complimented or insulted. Still, Jack just called me cute.   
Those thoughts should keep me warm tonight.  
  
"ANYWAY," I say continuing my what-if scenario. "If I were overtaken by a dozen.."  
  
"Two." Jack says getting into the game.  
  
"Half a dozen fierce warriors," I say glaring at him. "And I were taken to the alter   
and told that now I would die. There probably isn't anything I could do about it.   
Sure, I'd try and talk sense into them, site some historical precedence or something.   
But sometimes that just might not work."  
  
"No kidding." Jack mumbles.  
  
"And who's going to be the one to save my butt from the burner?" I don't wait for   
his answer. "Guys like you Jack; smart military guys who can assess a situation and   
do what needs to be done. No pondering, no questioning, you just do it."  
  
Jack just sits there for several long moments mulling over what I have said.  
  
"Smart military guys can make mistakes you know."  
  
"So can smart, meaning of life guys." I answer. Jack sighs deeply and goes back to   
staring at the kids on the swing set. I continue to sit with him for another five   
minutes before standing up. It's time for me to go. Jack looks at me as I stand. His   
silver hairs sparkle in the strong sunshine. I decide that Jack O'Neill looks quite   
dignified with gray hair.   
  
"Your ears are turning pink Jack, don't stay out here too long." I chide.  
  
Jack smiles, eyes twinkling. "Just a little while longer mom."   
  
I laugh and give him a short wave. "Bye Jack."  
  
"Bye Kira. Thanks." Not really sure what he's thanking me for, but that's ok. Jack   
seems a little less sad than when I sat down and that's not a bad thing at all.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
*Mensa- club for folks with really high IQ's.  
** Flowers For Algernon. A book by Daniel Keyes about a guy with a really low IQ   
who gains intelligence only to eventually lose it again. 


	19. Mardi Gras

**Title:** The Barista 19 - Mardi Gras   
**Season:** 2   
**Category:** Missing Scene/Epilogue   
**Episode Related:** 221 '1969'   
**Spoilers:** Slight reference to Brief Candle and Spirits

**Author's Notes:**- I made this a wee bit longer as penance. g And speaking of penance, I have to thank Liz for reminding me of Lent and suggesting how it might be included in the story. Thanks darlin'.

* * *

This was a really a bad idea. 

Bad, horrid, nasty and have I mentioned bad?

"Quit scowling Kira and get on out there." Stefan says laughing as he shoves me out of the break room and into the crowded store.

"Easy for you to say." I grumble as I allow myself to be dragged forward. I can't fight too much; after all, I did show up for work.

The things I do for money.

As I round the corner, I am greeted with a cacophony of happy sounding voices. For all the excitement out here, you'd think this was a bar and not a coffee house!

"Would you at least try and have fun?" Stefan says giving me a playful pat on my butt as he ducks behind the counter.

As I said- easy for him to say.

Stefan is truly in his element. He's wearing tight, threadbare jeans that flare appallingly at the ankle and a loose peasant shirt topped by a suede vest, complete with tassels and beads. He can't stop grinning as he flirts outrageously with anyone who'll let him. Despite myself I smile. I mean if Stefan can have fun, the least I could do is try.

Right.

Thing is, it's hard to feel all fun loving and free-thinking (or is that fun thinking and free-loving?) when you're gussied up like a Jesus Christ Superstar reject.

You know this wouldn't be so bad if Victor hadn't insisted I wear ponytails. Imagine Marcia Brady with really big bushy hair and you'll understand my pain. I was NOT meant to wear my hair this way. Actually, looking back at photos, I think the only reason so many girls were able to wear this style was due to the fact that no one washed their hair much in the 60's. Seriously.

It isn't that my costume is really all that bad. Patchwork skirt with large denim patches (compliments of my mom) and several brightly colored scarves wrapped around my waist. I am wearing a simple long sleeve cotton t-shirt on top covered with a macramé vest (also my mom's). But it is the pigtails that are really driving me nuts. I pull on them one last time as I head out to the floor to bus tables.

And to think I could be safe and sound in my beloved library right about now, or perhaps freezing my ass off running a 10k around the park. But noooo, I had to sign up for a Saturday afternoon shift and don this Halloween reject of a costume. Don't get me wrong- I actually like dressing up on Halloween. But really, after the age of 10 or so, the only folks who celebrate Halloween usually do so because they're parents. Or in the company of large amounts of alcoholic beverages- there is a very good reason for this.

I look around at the 6 or so colorfully garbed Baristas and shake my head at the audacity of it all- Victor and his great ideas.

Thing is, it actually is a good idea. See, Victor and the other merchants in our little quarter of the city, thought it might be fun to kick off the annual Mardi Gras celebrations by having all the stores (and their employees) dress up. Of course, the fact that we're over 1000 miles from New Orleans and the bulk of the celebration was LAST WEEK doesn't seem to bother anyone. Still, holding the festivities right after Fat Tuesday seemed to be ok with everyone.

I guess we just needed a reason to have a little mid-winter party.

And that brings me to my present situation.

"So Kira, what are you giving up for Lent?" Stefan asks giving me a little eyebrow action as I tie on my apron and eye the growing number of dirty mugs and plates needing to be collected.

"I'm Jewish Stefan, we don't do Lent." I say releasing an exasperated sigh. I still don't understand this whole Lent thing. I mean, I understand the historical background, but the modern applications are what throw me for a loop. What exactly does giving up chocolate have to do with the crucifixion?

"Spoilsport." Stefan says as he puts the finishing touches on a truly beautiful latte.

"What are you giving up Stefan?" I'm not really sure I want to know actually. With Stefan, you can never tell.

He gives the customer his latte and with an ostentatious flourish, places one hand across his brow and sighs dramatically. "This year I am giving up regret."

"Puh-leeze!" I say rolling my eyes as I snap a towel in his general direction.

I head out to the floor and finish clearing the tables as another small batch of people squeeze through the front door. For the life of me I cannot figure out where everyone is coming from! Sure there were loud, obnoxious parties in the city core last night- but it's 11 o'clock in the morning! Shouldn't these people be at home? Watching some god-awful football game perhaps?

Oh wait a second! Football ended in late January… I mentally snap my fingers- that's why we're so crowded; we're between public sporting events! Baseball doesn't begin for another few weeks, football is over and it really is for the best not to mention the Denver Nuggets basketball franchise.

Of course hockey is always in style here in the Rocky Mountain State...

Surprisingly the next few hours actually fly by. The weird late morning breakfast crowd leaves and we're left with just a steady stream of mostly tourists. By 3:00 it had died down enough for Vic to send home Jenn and Jeff (they had been here since 7 am) and after admonishing Stefan and I to be good, (why'd he single out us!) he left as well.

"Music!" Stefan says with a grin as he waggles his eyebrows at me. I can't help but laugh as he puts on the soundtrack to Priscilla Queen of the Desert.

"This isn't 60's music Stefan." I say primly.

"Abba got together in the 60's." He replies turning up the volume to 'Mama Mia'.

"Doesn't count." I say reaching over him and grabbing a CD from the pile of "approved" music choices. I'm not above playing my own music from time to time, but we have plenty of good 60's stuff to choose from- I'll save Priscilla for after we close.

I had just put on some early Simon and Garfunkel when I hear the tell tale jingle of someone walking through the front door. Instantly I dimple at spying one of my favorite customers when suddenly I realize I'm still dressed for a Grateful Dead concert and my pig tails are frizzing all over the place- I bet I look 14 years old!

Great! I look 14 and Jack looks… Absently I wet my lips. You really aren't supposed to look that good in your 40's. Totally inappropriate thoughts rush through my mind as I duck behind the espresso machine. Really mature I know, but it's an impulse thing. Maybe if I'm behind the damn thing he won't see me.

Initially, I am successful. It doesn't appear like Colonel Jack has spotted me, but I can see him just fine. Looking good Colonel J! That man so knows how to fill out a pair of Levis. I guess it makes sense that Jack and Daniel are friends. I mean, they don't seem to have a damn thing in common except a weird military connection and their attractiveness. Not that they'd really notice that of course. The truly good-looking guys never do.

Now don't go thinking that all I do is fantasize about Colonel Jack and Daniel all day long, 'cause I don't. Honest. I can go weeks without seeing them (or thinking about them) and then one day Daniel will come in looking like something the cat dragged in; pale and several pounds lighter, sporting assorted cuts and bruises. Naturally he can't tell me what happened. And then there's Jack. Not too long ago he stopped by with his arm in a sling and when I asked him about it he replied quite drolly, "Archery accident." Daniel nearly choked on his breve with that pronouncement.

I think of all of this as I remain crouched at Stefan's feet. Stefan keeps trying to step on me and Sandy (on register) is doing her best not to laugh. Some friends I have! I poke my head out sideways and catch a quick glimpse of one amused looking colonel. Seems Jack is pleased as punch at something and is feeling the need to share. He reaches in and takes out his phone, the whole time looking around the general area and grinning like a fool. I don't see what number he presses, but it is definitely someone on speed dial. I take the opportunity to leave the security of the espresso machine for the long counter space to my left. I decide now would be an excellent time to inventory the plastic cups. Stefan was about to rat me out anyways.

"Hey Sam." Jack says into his cell phone as he takes a step closer to the front of the line (he's now third).

"Nope, I'm not at Daniel's yet. Actually, I was hoping you could do me a favor." Again he looks around the shop and shakes his head still chuckling to himself.

"Can you pick up Daniel and meet me at Kira's coffee shop?" I duck my head even lower as I blush up a storm. Good thing Victor isn't here. 'Kira's' coffee shop!

Jack waves a hand impatiently. "Yeah, I know we're all supposed to meet at his place, but trust me on this- you guys need to get down here."

He listens for a few moments and then darts his eyes in my direction. He can't really see me under the counter, can he?

"Kira? Yeah, she's here. I think she's hiding from me at the moment." Damn. He did see me.

"Why? I think she's embarrassed." Damn straight I am. Colonel Jack continues listening as he moves up to the number two spot in line. "Just go grab Danny Carter and come on out- you'll see why." He hangs up the phone and shoves two hands into his pockets as he patiently waits in line. Suddenly he takes a quick step forward and pokes his head over the counter.

"Hi Kira." He says smiling as he gives me a little wave with his fingertips.

"Uh, hi Jack." I say completely mortified as I stand up and straighten my skirt.

"What 'cha doing?" Jack asks innocently.

"Counting cups?" Damn. Should have said that without the question mark.

"Uh huh." Jack says pulling his head back away from the counter. The guy in front of him places his order (after giving both of us a funny look) and Jack steps to the front of the line as his turn comes up.

"I go it Sandy." I say sighing as I stand up. It had been a pretty dumb idea to hide from Colonel Jack O'Neill. He's probably had secret anti-hiding training or something.

"Think it'll be ok if I just take off Kree?" Sandy asks. I don't miss the slight flinch from Jack as she says this. I glance at my watch- 3:30 p.m.

"Sure." I say. That leaves just me on register, Stefan on bar and Kim to do the dishes (she's the low man on the totem pole as she started work just two weeks ago).

"I like the look Meyers." Jack says eyeing my colorful attire. I try to ignore the little thrill I got from having Jack call me by my last name.

"Victor's idea." I say grudgingly. "For Mardi Gras." I add as an explanation.

"Wasn't that last week?" Jack asks as he checks his watch as if to verify the date.

"Uh huh." I say nodding. "Logistical problems." I say as if that can explain everything.

"Well, the place looks great." Jack says looking around the room once again. We have a Woodstock poster in one corner and several blown up photographs of civil rights leaders, protesters, Vietnam vets and just general images taken from the mid-60's. Outside the other shops have also gone all out with their decorations. Those who couldn't quite do the Mardi Gras theme (like us) were decked out in 1960's paraphernalia. Lava lamps could be seen in windows and Woodstock-type music is being piped out over the block loud speakers. Least we know they work incase we're ever invaded or something.

"So great, you thought Daniel and Captain Carter should some down?" I admit it- I am curious.

"Oh yeah." Jack said nodding his head vigorously. "They definitely need to see this." He pauses to look at my skirt. "Plus I think Carter has a skirt just like yours.

I laugh. "I doubt it's just like it." I reply. I take a moment to twirl around. "This is one of my mom's originals. Back in '68 and '69 she used to travel around the country selling them on the street. I think traveling along Route 66 was her favorite. As soon as she gathered enough money for the next leg of her trip, she'd pack on and move further west. My dad followed her through two states before she finally accepted his proposal!" The story of how my parents met and their subsequent marriage is pretty funny, but I doubt Jack really wanted to hear about it.

"You're kidding." Jack says completely flabbergasted.

I give him a funny look. "Nope. He really did follow her through two states."

"Right." Jack says nodding slowly. Why do I get the feeling that wasn't what shocked him?

Jack gives another little shake of his head as he turns his attention back to me. "Can I get a regular cup of coffee while I wait for the others?"

"Absolutely. We're brewing a fresh pot right now. Go take a seat and I'll bring it out to you."

"Thanks Kira."

I take out Jack's coffee a few minutes later and then find myself quite busy as a rush of college track guys come on through. Seeing as they're buff, mostly male and slightly sweaty, my (oh so fickle) mind quickly forgets all about Jack O'Neill as I smile and take their orders.

It is a good 30 minutes later that I catch sight of Daniel and Sam walking through the front door. Jack had been sitting quietly as a mouse in the corner of the store; I had honestly forgotten all about him!

"Well at least I'll get a decent cup of coffee out of this whole thing." Daniel grumbles as he opens the door for Sam.

"Daniel, I'm sure the Colonel wouldn't ask us to come on down unless there was a good reason. Besides, did you see the way all the stores are decorated? It's like Halloween out there!"

"And in here." Jack says standing up and taking a few steps towards them. "Look around guys."

Both Daniel and Sam stop dead in their tracks as they take a moment to really look around the room. They both smile as the catch sight of Stefan and I decked out in our colorful attire.

"Well this looks strangely familiar." Daniel says in an amused voice.

"Déjà vu?" Sam says taking a step closer to the Woodstock sign.

"And check out Kira's skirt." Jack adds as he waves me over to the little group.

"Hey Kira." Daniel says warmly as he smiles at me. Forget what I said about not thinking about Daniel all the time. When that man smiles, I can't think of anything BUT Daniel. He gives me a quick once over. "Nice threads."

"Thanks." I answer somewhat shyly as I struggle to resist the urge to tug on my ponytails once again.

"Sir, isn't that.." Sam begins as she eyes my skirt.

"Yep." Jack replies. "Although your skirt was just a bit longer I believe." Jack says eyes twinkling in amusement. I try not to be offended. Captain Sam has a good 6 or 7 inches on me- any skirt she'd own would be a lot longer.

"AND it seems Kira's mom used to make skirts just like that back in the late 60's. Sold them on the road along Route 66."

"No way." Daniel says sounding years younger than his 30+ years.

"Way." Jack says nodding vigorously.

"Uh guys?" I ask once again completely baffled as to their behavior.

"Sorry Kira." Sam says apologetically as she shoots Daniel and Jack a scolding look. "We had a costume party of sorts last week on base and the skirt I wore looked remarkably like yours."

"It's a pretty standard style Sam, I doubt you have one of mom's original skirts!" I say with a laugh. I mean, can you imagine the odds of that?

"Yeah, you're probably right." Sam says not sounding all too convinced.

"Can I get you guys something to drink?" I ask, feeling the need to take the attention away from mom's skirt and me.

"I'll have a double tall mocha." Daniel says instantly.

"Do you have Chai here Kira?" Sam asks.

"Yep." I reply. "We can make it with either regular milk or soy milk."

"Regular would be great."

"Another refill Jack?" I ask.

"I'm good." I nod as I walk back to the cash register. Stefan is already busy steaming the chocolate milk.

"Chai Carter?" I overhear Jack say as he leads his team back to his table. "What the hell is Chai?"

"In Russian it means Tea Jack." Daniel adds helpfully.

"Then why didn't she just say 'tea' Daniel?"

"Sir, you really do need to get out more." Sam says chuckling softly. "Chai is a kind of tea drink, but made with lots of milk and spices. Nutmeg, cloves- cinnamon—it's like a latte, only made with tea."

"Sounds like that stuff we were served on..during that fact finding mission we went on a few weeks ago."

"Very similar to that Sir." Sam says nodding. "That's when I remembered that there's other things to order in a coffee shop besides coffee."

"Nothing of consequence though." Daniel says as he gratefully accepts the mocha I had to him. "Cheers Kira."

"Daniel, you are such a coffee slave." Jack says chiding his friend affectionately.

"I don't deny it Jack." He says taking a large sip of his beverage.

"Thanks Kira." Sam says as I hand her the chai.

"Would you like a taste Sir?" Sam asks offering Jack her beverage.

"Maybe next time Carter." Jack says wrinkling his nose slightly. "I think the last stuff I drank gave me a bit of a hangover."

"You barely touched the drink Jack!" Daniel scoffs.

"Well excuse me if I'm a little cautious these days about accepting food or drink from strangers!" Jack says hotly.

"I think it's only food that's given specifically to you that you need to be worried about Sir." Sam says trying not to grin.

"That was not my fault!"

"Uh huh." Daniel says taking another drink of his coffee

"Daniel…" Jack warns pointing a finger at his friend.

"This tastes great Kira!" Sam says attempting to break the mood and interrupt whatever strange conversation Jack and Daniel were having. It seemed to work.

"Thanks." I say as I leave them to their cryptic conversations.

As I reach the counter I can just hear Colonel Jack taking one last jab at Daniel. "Just remember Danny, you've had far more let us say 'unusual' adventures than I."

"Yeah, but I'm the flakey archaeologist Jack- it's expected of me."

Jack lets out an exasperated sigh. "Carter, can you or Murray do something stupid the next time around?" I laugh quietly as I tune them out and focus my attention on the next person in line.

They stayed in the shop for another 15 minutes or so and spent most of the time reminiscing about some 60's party they had gone too. The conversation didn't make a lot of sense, as I would only hear bits and pieces of conversation before having to help another customer. Eventually Jack announced that they should get going and they all stood up and headed towards the register. Jack paid while Daniel bussed their dishes for me. (Yet another reason why I'm a proud member of the Daniel Jackson fan club.)

"Have a good rest of the weekend guys." I say to them as they head out the door.

"Will do Kira. You do the same." Jack says in return.

"Sam!" I shout as I run to catch them before they leave. Everyone stops and turns to look at me. "If that skirt you have is one my mom made, there should be a small daisy appliqué sewed into the waist band. That was my mom's signature back in her seamstress/vagabond days."

"I'll make sure and have a look Kira." Sam says smiling. "Take care."

"You too." I stand in the doorway for several seconds watching them amble down the street. Sometimes I really wish I could follow them to work and see just what it is they do. So many in-jokes! But in the meantime I'm content just giving them their occasional beverage and hearing second hand what they've been up too.

And having Daniel help me with my homework.

* * *

More Authors' Notes: 

Last of the Season 2 Barista vignettes. I hope everyone had just as much fun reading them as I had writing them. But wait! I was given a great idea for a bonus Barista story a few weeks ago and will probably go back in time and write a chapter 17.5 in the very near future. Thank you again for all your very positive feedback!**Addendum: I did indeed write a '17.5'. So stop what you're doing, hit the 'dietockechic' link and head on over to "Barista Bonus - The Trouble With Eavesdropping" (it was so long, I made it a separate story). Sure, you can just continue on here...but you'll miss out on some great references in the future!)**

I'll be continuing with Season 3 as soon as I get a chance to watch them. This might be a little while, but 17.5 should assuage any withdrawal symptoms until I can get my hands on the next round of Stargate DVDs. (Mid June?)

One last thought- I do have Jack calling Sam 'Sam' on the telephone and thought long and hard about that. The thing is, that although Sam will probably not be able to drop the 'Colonel' or 'Sir' title- Jack can. Go back and watch 'Spirits'- as Sam goes off on her first mission lead, Jack calls her 'Sam'. In my humble opinion, it isn't until 'Out of Mind' (Hey Carter, can I count your freckles for you?) that other, non-military and not strictly friend-related ideas start filtering through his head. IMHO.

* * *


	20. Kidnapped by aliens

Chapter 20 (301)  
Episode: Takes place after 301, Into the Fire  
  
A/N- I just want to thank each and every one of you for reading and (hopefully!)   
enjoying this series! Kira and her wacky little vignettes have won THREE SG-1 Fan   
Fiction awards, and it couldn't have happened without you. *curtsies deeply* Thank   
you from the bottom of my coffee cup!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
June really is one of my favorite months out of the year; it stays sunny until well   
past 9 pm, the days are seldom overly hot and the cute biker boys come in every   
Saturday morning after their training rides. Have you ever *looked* at their legs   
before? Drool.  
  
And speaking of drooling, where the hell is Daniel? I mean, the last time I saw him   
was just a few days after that embarrassing Mardi Gras experience. But now it's the   
end of June and the guy is still nowhere to be found!   
  
I haven't seen Jack or Sam either, but considering they don't live downtown, that   
isn't so unusual. But Daniel? He usually comes by for coffee at least three times a   
week. Well, that is when he's in town. That guy sure does travel a lot. So much so   
that he actually lets me know occasionally when he'll be out of town for a day or two.   
Not all the time or anything, but if he knows he has a trip planned (apparently   
sometimes he doesn't know until he gets to work, how weird is that?!) he'll try and   
remember to tell me. Naturally he never lets me know where though...  
  
But it's been over three months! I know it's rather morbid, but I've started reading   
the obituary columns. I mean, come on! I'm just the guy's Barista here; it isn't like   
anyone would ever notify me if he died or anything. Well Jack might. And probably   
Sam.. My mind instantly takes a left turn at good sense and imagines all three of   
them lying dead in a dark aboriginal jungle someplace. I quickly shake my head to   
dispel the image.  
  
They are NOT dead.  
  
I plaster on a happy smile as a customer (tourist) comes in and waves his hand in   
confused little circles at the above the counter menu and asks in a bewildered drawl,   
'Which one of these is the real coffee?'  
  
Why do I work here again?  
  
I had just finished handing Mr. Texan his Grande Latté (or law-tee as the nice   
gentleman called it) when I felt Stefan give me a sharp nudge on my right. I turn   
towards him to see what he wants and follow his eyes as Stefan glances pointedly   
towards the door.  
  
Daniel!  
  
At least I think its Daniel. Man, as if I don't have enough dream fantasy fodder what   
with that birthday kiss of his; apparently Daniel spent part of his summer vacation   
getting a haircut.  
  
A really, really nice haircut.  
  
My face lights up like a kid at Christmas as my number one customer gives me a shy   
wave and gets in line. Told you he wasn't dead!  
  
I quickly take the next order (double shot espresso with a dollop of whip cream) and   
bring my attention back towards Daniel. My smile slips a little as I really get a good   
look at him. Daniel doesn't look so hot.   
  
I mean, of COURSE Daniel looks hot, but despite the really excellent haircut, Daniel   
looks like he's been through the ringer. He's rather pale (especially considering it's   
early summer), has a really odd red mark on his temple and I think I saw him   
limping slightly.  
  
I finish ringing up the last customer and finally get a chance to see Daniel up close   
and in person. Allison taps me on the shoulder and gently pushes me over to the   
second register; her way of telling me to take all the time I need with Daniel, she'll   
handle the other customers. Coffee shop friends are the best!  
  
"Hey stranger." I saw giving Daniel a truly jaw-splitting smile. Damn if it isn't good   
to see him.  
  
"It's good to see you again Kira." Daniel says warmly in return.  
  
"So before I grill you on where the heck you've been for the last several months,   
how about I make you a drink?"  
  
Daniel nods gratefully. "Triple tall mocha with extra whip." I raise my eyebrows   
slightly- that's a pretty hefty drink, even for Daniel.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure." Daniel says as he notices my hesitation.  
  
"You aren't under a doctor's care or anything are you Daniel?" I ask as I jot the   
order down on a cup and pass it over to Stefan. Stefan too gives Daniel a second   
glance- our Daniel doesn't usually order such rich drinks.  
  
"Define 'care'?" Daniel asks looking slightly sheepish. And dammit, somehow he is   
managing to look extra yummy now that his hair is out of his eyes.   
  
"Daniel! Do I need to call Jack?" I ask worriedly. I'm more than slightly taken back   
at how much I'm sounding like my mother at the moment. Daniel laughs.  
  
"I'm fine Kira, really. Janet released me last night. I do have to return in the   
morning for a follow-up visit, but I'm fine. Really." I feel a little zing of pride   
knowing that I'm close enough to Daniel and his friends that I don't have to have it   
explained to me that Janet is his doctor.  
  
"So what happened?" I ask as I give Daniel his coffee and lead him over to an   
empty table. I glance back and catch Stefan's eye; I hold up a hand- 5 minutes.  
  
"Would you believe me if I told you I was kidnapped by aliens and cryogenically   
frozen?" Daniel asks. I stare at him in complete bafflement and slowly shake my   
head.  
  
"Noo-oo." I say slowly, drawing out the word. "Although, I wouldn't put getting   
kidnapped by aliens past you, the whole cryogenic issue would be more tricky."   
Again Daniel laughs.  
  
"You believe in aliens, but not deep freeze chambers?" He asks incredulously.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Ok then!" He takes a sip of his drink and groans appreciatively. "Great coffee Kira!"   
Daniel! You've got to stop doing that! I give myself a mental shake and focus on   
the other random out-of-place elements that surround the good Doctor.  
  
"Daniel, why did you cut your hair?" Daniel runs a hand self consciously through his   
shortened locks and gives a dry chuckle.  
  
"It was definitely not my idea." He states.  
  
"The alien kidnappers did it huh?"   
  
"Exactly." Daniel nods.  
  
"What about the mark on your temple?" Daniel reaches up and touches the   
reddened mark on the left side of his face.   
  
"Allergic reaction to a bug bite." He says after a moment's pause.   
  
"Is that why you're so pale?" I'm totally being nosy here- but Daniel will stop me   
when I've gone too far.  
  
"Really, really bad reaction." He deadpans. "Besides, I was just recovering from   
being cryogenically frozen and couldn't exactly resist."  
  
"Resist getting bitten by a mosquito?" I clarify.  
  
"I was too out of it to remember to apply my DEET."  
  
"Uh huh." I say seriously not believing a word he's telling me.  
  
"What about your limp?"  
  
"Dang Kira! Is there anything about me you don't notice?!" Now it's my turn to   
blush a healthy shade of red. Uh no?  
  
"I'm a people person Daniel!" I say in explanation. "I notice stuff like this!" And it's   
true really. I'm damn good at remembering wiggly little details that most folks   
usually forget. In high school, my career assessment test pegged me as a Private   
Investigator or FBI agent. My friends called me 'Scully' for months after that.  
  
"Well Ms. People person, what's going on with the American University in Cairo? Are   
you still planning on going there next fall?"  
  
Now it's my turn to look sheepish. This does not go unnoticed by Daniel.  
  
"Kira?" Daniel prompts.  
  
"Well, it's like this Daniel," I begin. "I could go in the fall and graduate next summer   
with two undergraduate degrees, OR I can graduate this fall, start Grad school in the   
Winter and head to Cairo with one of my favorite Professor's late Spring of next   
year."  
  
Daniel looks at me with shining eyes and gives me a knowing smile. I doubt he'll   
actually say it, but I think he's impressed. It sure sounds a lot more impressive   
when I say it aloud! After crunching the numbers (I'll be in debt a whopping   
$43,000 by the time all of this is done) and messing around with the course loads, I   
was pretty much burnt out on the whole university experience. Ever since school   
ended last month, I've been pulling double shifts at the coffee shop and scoping out   
the town in search of a potential internships. I can't pull coffee forever you know...  
  
"So what's your degree officially going to be in?" Daniel asks.  
  
"Classical Studies." Did he really think I would be doing anything else? What other   
degree encourages you to take both Greek AND Latin?  
  
"And your minor?" He asks.  
  
Krino*. Now I'm turning the color of real bad sunburn. "Archaeology." I mumble.  
  
"Kira, did you just say Archaeology?" Daniel said emphasizing the word.  
  
"Uh huh." I say wishing I had a cup of tea or something to hide behind.  
  
"Weren't you the person last winter that told me how boring you thought   
Archaeology could be? Something to do with old rocks and buildings...?"  
  
"All right!" I exclaim tossing my hands into the air in defeat. "I was totally wrong in   
my original assessment of your field, ok?" Assessment? Since when did I start using   
the word 'assessment'? Damn, I really am a college student, aren't I?  
  
Daniel gives me another big smile. "So what classes did you take?"  
  
"Besides "Intro to Archaeology", I have taken "Cultural Representations, Beliefs and   
Practices" and "Origins of Civilization". I plan on taking "Lost Languages and   
Decipherments" next fall before I graduate."  
  
"Impressive." Daniel says finishing off his coffee. Again I blush. Dammit Kira, you   
have got to stop doing that!  
  
"And your Masters'?"  
  
"Definitely History, a combination of Ancient and Early I think, and I haven't quite   
decided if the second MA will be in Linguistics or Archival Science."  
  
Daniel whistles. "You're going to have your hands full, aren't you?" I shrug- no   
more than usual.. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around to see Allison. Oops-   
guess I used up my five minutes.  
  
"Sorry Ali," I say apologetically as I grab Daniel's now empty cup and scurry off back   
to the counter. "Daniel I need to get back to work."   
  
"No problem Kira, but I want to hear more later, ok? You still work most mornings?"  
  
I nod as I relieve Stefan from behind the espresso machine. "Be nice." I whisper to   
Stefan as I pick up the cup in front of me and make out the order for a double tall   
Americano. Stefan gives me a "Who moi?" look and heads back towards the break   
room. I see him mouth 'Nice haircut' before he disappears.   
  
"Still working mornings." I call out as I measure out two shots of ground espresso   
and tamp it down.  
  
"I'll catch up with you later this week then." Daniel says from the far end of the   
counter as he makes his way towards the door.  
  
"Try not to get kidnapped by aliens and flash frozen this time, ok?" I tease as I pull   
the shots.   
  
"I sincerely hope not." Daniel says earnestly. "See you in a couple days Kira." With   
a final little wave he leaves.  
  
I finish making the drink and had just started on the next one when I remembered.   
I'm not going to BE here in a couple of days! I grit my teeth in frustration and give   
myself a mental slap. Oh well. I'll write a note and leave it for Josh, the guy taking   
over my shifts while I'm gone. It'll only be for three days- how much mischief can   
Daniel get into in three days? I pause to consider that thought and shake my head.   
I might have only known Daniel for a little over two years now, but already I was   
certain that if there is anyone out there who can get into more complicated problems   
than Daniel and his friends, I have yet to meet them.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N- Hwaaaah ahhhh. -- my attempt at manic laughter-- Foreshadowing!   
  
DEET is super strong mosquito/bug repellant.   
*Krino might be 'damn' in Ancient Greek- but it's hard to be certain... 


	21. Microsoft, Starbucks and Boeing, Oh My!

Barista  
Chapter 21 (302)- Microsoft, Starbucks and Boeing, Oh My!  
Takes place after the events of Seth  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Seattle.   
  
It feels strange to be back in the northwest after nearly 15 years of living in the   
Rockies. I was been born in Portland, Oregon, but I don't remember too much of   
those first 8 years of my life. I'm pretty certain coffee wasn't the end all-be all down   
there like it is up here in Seattle. But then again, I was only in elementary school,   
so what do I know?  
  
When Victor asked me if I would like to head to Seattle for a coffee convention, I just   
laughed. I mean, sure it makes sense to have a Starbucks convention in Seattle,   
but an *independent* coffee convention? Isn't that just a little weird? Apparently   
the organizers of INCA (Independent Coffee Organization of America) thought it   
would be hysterical to flout their independence by gathering in the Mecca of all   
coffee cities; Seattle. I have to admit- they were pretty much right.  
  
Several hundred representatives (both baristas and owners) met in downtown   
Seattle's convention center for a little knowledge sharing and general big business   
bashing. We had fun tasting small house coffee roasts and strategizing how to make   
the most of independent coffee houses. While it is true that I don't especially like   
coffee, I do enjoy the smell and am perfectly capable of sampling different blends.  
  
The best part came when we took breaks or went to lunch. We'd walk down the   
streets of downtown Seattle wearing "Support Independent Coffee" buttons. I found   
the whole thing hysterical, although Seattleites seemed to take our presence in   
stride. We had several locals stop and talk with us about the importance of small   
businesses and supporting local communities. They seemed earnest enough despite   
the lingering scent of coffee on their breath. Who knows? Perhaps they had been   
drinking their own homemade coffee? Yeah right! As if anyone in Seattle actually   
owns a Mr. Coffee…. Still, it was kind of fun chatting with small-time coffee shop   
owners and baristas from other parts of the country.  
  
The weather had been a surprise though. I had brought a light raincoat and covered   
shoes specifically for my visit and what do I get? 76 degrees and a light northerly   
breeze; so much for the mythos of Seattle rain. I guess I should have known better.   
  
I had spent yesterday walking around the touristy Pike Place market located in the   
heart of downtown Seattle. The number of people was truly impressive and I   
wondered if any of the strangers jostling my arms and legs were locals. I watched   
the guys throwing fish and ate my lunch in a park along the waterfront. Mt. Rainier   
hovered like a majestic guardian angel in the background as I enjoyed the warmth of   
the sunshine as I watched the ferries cruise to and fro across the sound; I can see   
why people might like to live here.   
  
Today I decided to leave the crowded downtown area and head towards…the equally   
crowded historic district. Unlike most of the other tourists about however, I had a   
destination, Elliot Bay Books. Although not nearly as large as the prodigious Powell's   
Books in Portland, Oregon, I had been told that Elliot Bay was a pretty cool   
bookstore in its own right. And being the not so closeted bibliophile that I am, I had   
to go check it out.   
  
As I browsed the stacks I listened to the booksellers talk about the growing   
popularity of Amazon books and what it might mean for independent booksellers; I   
was beginning to see a theme here in Seattle. Although the city as a whole seemed   
to attract mega corporations (anyone hear of a little computer company known as   
Microsoft? How about Boeing?), the liberal-minded denizens tended to root for the   
little guy. I had a feeling this winter's World Trade Organization meeting here would   
be interesting.  
  
I found myself in the ancient history section and was eyeing some books on   
Mesopotamia. Eyeing being just about all I could do, as the books were a good   
seven feet up. I glance to my right and spy one of the many little step stools located   
throughout the store. Unfortunately, someone was actually sitting on the damn   
thing so I couldn't actually use it. The left yielded only a couple of patrons browsing   
similar shelves as I. With a sigh I carefully push several books on the lower shelf   
towards the back and gingerly take a step higher as I reach for the still unattainable   
Secrets of Early Civilization. Sometimes being short sucks.  
  
"You know, I bet there are easier ways to get a book." A humorous voice says   
behind me as a hand reaches blithely past my shoulder and grabs the book I want.   
  
Instantly I freeze; I know that voice.   
  
I slowly take a step down and turn around to face the smiling man holding my book.   
"Daniel?" I ask doing a really excellent impression of a puffer fish. I know it has to   
be him, but it just isn't everyday you see a friend from home. At least not when   
your home is several thousand miles away.  
  
"Kira?" Daniel's eyes widen in shock and surprise and we stare at each other for   
several long moments before Daniel's face breaks into a grin and he reaches down to   
give me a long hug. Daniel hug number four!   
  
Not that I'm counting or anything.  
  
"What are you doing in Seattle?" He asks releasing me from the hug and handing   
over the book I was having problems reaching.  
  
"Coffee convention." I reply grinning. "You?"  
  
"Business." Daniel says matter-of-factly. Hmm. Not much of an answer, but this is   
Daniel after all; enigma is his middle name.  
  
"Colonel Jack and Sam with you?" I ask looking around the crowded store.  
  
"Not in the store, no. But Jack's here in Seattle as well." I shake my head in   
disbelief and smile. What are the odds?  
  
"And Sam? What about your friend Murray?"  
  
"Sam and her dad are in San Diego and Murray.."  
  
"She's with her dad?" I interrupt as my mind instantly flashed back to last winter   
and his illness. "Is he doing all right?   
  
"He's doing fine Kira." I start worrying my lower lip between my teeth. "You sure?"  
  
"I spoke to him just yesterday." Daniel says giving me a reassuring smile. "He's   
doing great." I catch a little hesitation in his voice.  
  
"But…?" I prompt.  
  
Daniel shakes his head and chuckles. "Is there anything you don't catch Kira?"  
  
"Not really." I say shrugging. I don't think Daniel needs to know that I only really   
pay attention to people and subjects I like. Confused the hell out of my parents. A's   
in history and social studies, while the "easier" courses of PE and home economics   
usually meant a low C. Well it did until I realized I needed a good GPA in order to   
get into college. After that, I forced myself to pay attention to the boring classes as   
well.   
  
I notice that Daniel still hasn't explained about Jacob, and I shoot him a look usually   
reserved for Stefan or one of my other friends. The look that says 'Stop being so   
pig-headed and spill it!'   
  
"Well?" I prompt.  
  
"Jacob was slightly injured two days ago." Daniel said as he unsuccessfully tried to   
hide a grimace. *Slightly* injured? Catching himself, Daniel backpedaled. "Honest   
Kira, I spoke to he and Sam this morning. Both of them are doing great; they're in   
San Diego visiting Sam's brother."   
  
I nod. I could see he was telling me the truth. Although with Daniel it never is   
really the *whole* truth, but as long as I know that Jacob Carter is all right, I'm   
content to let it be. "So Daniel," I say with a playful smile on my lips. "Want to grab   
a cup of coffee?"  
  
"I have a better idea Kira." Daniel says slyly as he smiles and nods his head   
knowingly. Grabbing my books, he heads to the registers.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  
"You are a sneaky lit.." I pause considering my choice of words. I can't really be   
calling a 6-foot tall guy little, can I? "You're sneaky Dr. Jackson." I say instead as   
Daniel reaches into his pocket and takes out a white hotel card key.  
  
Daniel holds one long tapered finger to his lips and motions me to be quiet. The   
door opens with a soft click and Daniel steps inside. He waves me behind him as we   
step into a decent sized living room. I had only been in a hotel suite once before and   
still found the notion of anything besides the obligatory two queen size beds and a   
small table extravagant.   
  
Although it's 2 o'clock in the afternoon, the curtains are drawn and the lights are   
dimmed. I can see the vague outline of a person sprawled out on a bed in the next   
room. Daniel turns to me and grins even wider. I shake my head motioning him to   
come back out. It's one thing to surprise Jack with my presence, it's something   
completely different to wake the guy up!  
  
"You do know I heard you come in, don't you Daniel?" A gravelly voice says from   
the next room.  
  
"Can't put anything past you, can I Jack?" Daniel says in return as he steps into the   
bedroom. I remain behind in the shadows of the living room.  
  
"Ops trained Daniel." Jack says as he flops over onto his back and pulls the pillow   
over his head. "How come you don't have a damn headache?" He asks in an   
accusing voice muffled by the pillow. "I can understand why Carter escaped this   
joyful experience, but shouldn't you, Mr. Pollen/Grass/Dander, be having some side   
effects?" He groans melodramatically as he took the pillow off his head and squinted   
in the direction of Daniel.   
  
Hangover? I frown slightly trying to think of what could make Jack O'Neill feel   
obviously under the weather and not effect Daniel. From what I had seen last year,   
Daniel can't really hold his liquor and I think Jack beat Sam in that silly drinking   
contest of theirs.  
  
Daniel just shrugs. "Janet thinks it has something to do with my antihistamines."  
  
"I swear Daniel, Janet should just issue everyone who goes off.."  
  
"Jack!" Daniel says loudly interrupting whatever Jack was going to say. He glances   
back in my direction and waves me forward. "You'll never guess what I found at the   
bookstore." Apparently Daniels loud shout had left Jack hurting once again. His   
pillow was back over his face and all I can see was a couple fingers twirling around in   
a 'la-di-da' loop.  
  
"Just as long as it doesn't weigh over our allotment of 80 pounds Daniel." Jack   
replies in a muffled voice.  
  
Daniel grins as he looks back in my direction. "I think she weighs a little more than   
that Jack."  
  
"She?" Jack says as he slowly removes his pillow and turns his head towards   
Daniel's direction. I'm pretty sure he could see me skulking in the shadows behind   
Daniel. "Picking up strays again Dr. Jackson?" Jack asks as he carefully eases   
himself up into a sitting position.  
  
"Hi Jack." I say stepping out from behind Daniel and giving the Colonel a little wave.  
  
"Kira." Jack says casually as he takes in my presence. "Aren't you a little far from   
home?"   
  
"No further than you." I say impishly in return.  
  
"Smart ass." He mumbles as he grabs a bottle of aspirin next to the bed and pours a   
couple of the tablets into his hand. "Thanks for giving me the advanced notice   
Daniel." Jack says as he swallows the pills dry. Ew! He must really be hurting if he   
doesn't even feel the need for water. Either that or his taste buds are all out of   
whack.   
  
"Quit being a grouch Jack." Daniel says as he steps over to the vanity area and   
pours Jack a glass of water. "You didn't betray any deep dark Air Force secret or   
anything."  
  
"No thanks to you." Jack says pointedly accepting the water with a small thank you   
nod.  
  
"Give me a little credit Jack!" Daniel says sounding several years younger than he   
actually is.  
  
"Maybe I should just leave?" I ask meekly from the edge of the room. Once again I   
feel like Jack and Daniel are having some hugely significant conversation disguised   
as idiotic banter. They remind me of my twin cousins; they're 14.  
  
"No!" They both say simultaneously.  
  
"Ouch." Jack mutters as he closes his eyes briefly.  
  
"You ok?" I ask knowing full well I would never be told exactly why Jack feels like   
crap.   
  
"I will be." Jack says simply. He gives Daniel another private look.  
  
"Selmak has theories as to why you were affected so adversely when neither Sam   
nor I were Jack."  
  
"Dr. Jackson," Jack answers tiredly. "Does national security mean nothing to you?"   
  
"What are you talking about Jack?" Daniel says with feigned innocence. "Dr. Selmak   
had some really interesting ideas. You were too busy being pig-headed about   
staying in Seattle to listen."  
  
"Dr. Selmak?" Jack repeats raising an eyebrow slightly. Both he and Daniel seem to   
like doing the eyebrow thing. Come to think of it, didn't Murray do it as well?  
  
"Yep." Daniel says smugly.  
  
"Jacob's gonna love that." Jack says smirking.  
  
"Jacob Carter?" I ask. Jack nods.   
  
"Jacob's doing loads better Kira." Jack says as he sets down his glass and slowly   
stands up. Quickly he reaches a hand out to steady himself. "Head rush." He   
explains as Daniel takes a step towards him. Jack just waves him away.  
  
"I don't know about you kids, but I could so use a cup of coffee right about now.  
  
"Coffee sounds great." I say nodding enthusiastically. I needed to get out of this   
Jackson/O'Neill fun house.  
  
"You sure that's a good idea Jack?" Daniel asks once again sounding like a mother   
hen.  
  
"Daniel," Jack says wagging a finger in Daniel's direction. "Think about how many   
times Frasier has you on caffeine restriction and think about how many times that   
happens to me." Daniel opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Jack   
continues. "Now think about how many times I have smuggled you in bootlegged   
coffee." Again Daniel opens his mouth to reply and again Jack beats him to the   
punch.  
  
"Now consider just who might be willing to go against Doc's orders the next time   
you go and touch something you're not supposed to."  
  
"Actually Jack, you were the one who touched…"  
  
"Caffeine Daniel." Jack says interrupting Daniel's latest rant. "Just remember who   
keeps you endlessly supplied with caffeine."  
  
"I thought that was Kira, Jack."   
  
"Kira doesn't have access to level 28." Jack concludes triumphantly.  
  
"You guys should really take this act on the road." I mutter as I follow the pair back   
towards the suite's living room.   
  
"Think I should suggest that to Hammond?" Jack says as he lowers himself onto the   
couch and begins to put on a pair of shoes.  
  
"I don't think so." Daniel says as he hands Jack his sunglasses.  
  
"Can I buy you a cup of coffee Ms. Meyers?" Jack asks as he bows slightly and walks   
me towards the door.  
  
"Absolutely Colonel." I say in return.  
  
"Torre Fazione!" Daniel says from behind us.  
  
"Daniel, it's too early for pizza." Jack sighs as the hotel room door clicks behind us.  
  
"Coffee Jack. It's a brand of coffee."  
  
"Kira?" Jack says turning towards me for confirmation.  
  
"Yep, it's coffee." I say nodding. "Actually I agree with Daniel, its pretty good stuff."  
  
"If you happen to drink coffee." Jack finishes.  
  
"If you happen to drink coffee." I confirm.  
  
"Kira," Jack says as we reach the elevator. "Can I buy you a cup of tea?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Hee hee hee. That was fun! Hope you enjoyed this light and fluffy little Barista   
tale. I'm afraid the next few are going to be a little on the heavy side. Daniel   
drugged to the gills and put in an insane asylum? Shar'e dying? Oh yeah- we're   
talking some serious angst ahead.  
  
I just made up the bit about INCA. If there really is an independent coffee   
organization (and I'm sure there is) it probably isn't called my little made-up   
acronym. And did everyone catch the subtle little jab at the WTO? The Seattle WTO   
riots happened in December 1999.  
  
As always, feedback adored and appreciated. 


	22. Legacy Fallout

Barista   
Chapter 22 (303)  
Takes place after 'Legacy'.  
  
A/N- Corrected version. Thanks Kath and Lew!  
  
Slightly different take on this story, as I felt I had already written more than one   
Daniel's-hurt-and-Kira's-worried tale and wanted to branch out and do something a   
bit different. Let me know if it worked, ok?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Mark my words; the next random act of violence is not going to come from a   
disgruntled postal worker, but rather from some poor overworked college student. I   
tiredly rub my eyes and glare back at the slowly blinking cursor in front of me. I   
wish they'd jazz up the speed on that thing or something.  
  
Come on Meyers! Just one more sentence! I resist the urge to beat my head   
against the steel table (Prior experience has taught me that this actually hurts like   
hell). Ignore the mesmerizing blinking light and just type the damn conclusion!   
  
Anything!  
  
Times like this I truly question my desire to pursue a career in academia; research   
papers are brutal! I really do enjoy doing all the reading (not that I'd admit that to   
my professors) and heaven knows libraries are my best friends, but writing down   
draft after draft of a 20+ page paper is just not my idea of a good time. I exhale   
with relief as the perfect sentence suddenly comes to me and I quickly order my   
fingers to type it out fast before the stray thought is gone. With great satisfaction I   
hit the save key and allow myself a small grin of triumph.   
  
Groaning a little I stand up and rotate my neck first one way and then the other.   
Ouch! I'd like to say I'm getting too old for this, but most likely I just forgot to move   
in the last 4 hours. What can I say? I'm single-minded.  
  
I wasn't actually scheduled to work today, but Victor had an emergency he needed   
to take care of in Denver. And although the store certainly can get by without my   
presence, Victor insisted that a manager-like person should be around just in case.   
Personally, I think he's just over-reacting to the almost-robbery we had last week.   
There weren't any managers on duty that day and the baristas in attendance really   
freaked (rightfully so!) when a guy waved a gun at them and asked for all their   
money. Luckily for us, the would-be robber was an idiot and didn't confirm before he   
pulled out his gun that the store was empty. Turned out that an off-duty cop was   
using our bathroom. He came out, saw the gun and immediately talked the guy into   
giving himself up. Happy ending for all, but Victor is still a little freaked. As are Tina   
and Mary Sue.  
  
I look up and make contact with both of the women. Tina gives me a thumbs up.   
Like I said, they really don't need me here. But if Victor feels the need to pay me   
$11 an hour to just sit in a corner and do my homework—well, who am I to   
complain?  
  
My stomach suddenly growls loudly and I realize that I haven't had anything   
substantial to eat in over 6 hours. Oops. I eye my laptop and question leaving it   
behind to forage for some food next door. Instantly I decide against it. There is no   
way I am letting this paper out of my sight. Not after all the work I did to come up   
with this idea of mine! Well, maybe I had a little help…  
  
I remember talking with Daniel about the paper over coffee in Seattle. Seeing as I   
had just decided what I was going to write about (The impact of early Greek   
civilization on emerging Indo-European cultures) I was quite enthusiastic in my   
descriptions of how influential those fifth century BCE* guys really were. At one   
point I swear I saw Jack roll his eyes and mumble something about "scientists".   
Daniel just chuckled and continued talking with me about Assyrian and   
Mesopotamian societies. It felt wonderful to hammer out ideas and theories with   
Daniel and idly I wondered just what it really was that he did for the Air Force and if   
they had room for another linguist or social scientist. I'm pretty certain my parents   
would freak if I joined the military, but talking with Daniel reminded me once again   
how much I really love history. If I can find a job that challenges me even half as   
much as my conversations with Daniel, I'd pretty much be in seventh heaven.  
  
But I digress.   
  
Food! I need to get some food. I honestly attempt to stand up and go, but my eyes   
flicker back towards my laptop and I can't help but sit back down. I turn it back on   
with the idea of proofing it just one more time before grabbing a bit to eat. My eyes   
gaze across the Times Roman 12 point font (double spaced) and I am only a   
paragraph into it when I glance up and catch sight of a military guy standing in line.   
Instantly I smile and think of Jack and Daniel. So maybe I can't talk myself into   
leaving and getting some much needed food, but at least I have the good sense to   
stop working and allow myself a little people-watching break.   
  
The guy is pretty ordinary looking in his pressed navy-colored slacks and funny   
looking cap. He doesn't look like a soldier exactly, but is definitely decked out in   
some kind of regulation clothing. He looks tired standing in line for his coffee and I   
watch as he lifts up a small cassette recorder and mutters a few words into the   
microphone.   
  
The guy is almost to the front of the line when suddenly his phone begins to ring. I   
know one day it will be pretty normal to hear cell phones ringing right and left, but it   
still strikes me as strange when a phone goes off when someone is standing in line   
for their morning latte. What could possibly be so important it can't wait until you   
are back at home or work? I sigh and shake my head; I got used to pagers, I'll get   
used to cell phones. The man mutters an apology (at least he has manners) and   
steps out of line taking a few steps towards my direction. He looks at the caller ID on   
his phone and closes his eyes momentarily. Doesn't appear to be a call he wants to   
take…. Geeze guy- just don't answer the damn thing! It's not as if phones can track   
you or anything…  
  
"I was really hoping to have a cup of coffee first Colonel." The man mutters tiredly   
as he presses a button on his phone and holds it up to his ear.  
  
"Doctor McKenzie." He says authoritatively into the phone. Doctor huh? Wouldn't   
that be a hoot if he knows Dr. Fraiser? I watch as Dr. McKenzie grimaces a bit and   
holds the phone a few inches away from his ear as the person on the other end of   
the phone lets loose with a barrage of angry sounding words. I can't understand   
exactly what is being said, but man, that guy on the other end of the phone sounds   
pissed.   
  
Dr. McKenzie waits a good 10 seconds or so before interrupting. "And a good   
morning to you to Colonel." He says calmly with a note of condescension in his   
voice. I sigh. One of *those* people. The kind who thinks the world revolves   
around them. I know I'm not being fair here, I just hate it when someone talks   
down to me, and am automatically irritated at this unknown Dr. McKenzie for talking   
down to a guy who apparently has just called him up to yell at him. Hmm, maybe I   
take that back. What sort of person calls another guy up just to yell at him? If I   
were this McKenzie guy, I'd hang up, finish my coffee and then give this guy a call   
back.  
  
I can't hear what the reply is, but I betcha anything the Colonel on the other end   
isn't wishing the good doctor a good morning.  
  
"I take it Colonel, you heard about the meeting scheduled for later this morning..?"   
Dr. McKenzie says into the phone. An angry retort is bellowed back at him.  
  
"Colonel, you know very well why we need to do this." He says calmly. This doc is   
reacting a hell of a lot calmer than I would have. The guy on the other end is   
obviously pissed beyond words at the moment and Dr. McKenzie is trying his best to   
be patient. He listens for a few seconds and then shakes his head. "Colonel, I am in   
a public place at the moment and cannot address those points directly." Huh? This   
guy is playing the military secret trump card that Daniel and Jack pull on me all the   
time. Wonder if McKenzie works up at Cheyenne? Wouldn't that be funny if he was   
talking with Colonel Jack?  
  
I scoff at myself and shake my head. Right Kira. As if there aren't dozens of   
colonels over there. Hell, he might be talking to someone in Washington DC for all I   
know.   
  
"Colonel O'Neill, I am going to need you to calm down!" McKenzie says forcibly as   
he rubs a spot between his eyes with his free hand. Holy shit! It *is* Colonel O'Neill   
he's talking with! Briefly I tell myself that there are probably one or two other   
Colonel O'Neill's out there and this just might not be my Colonel Jack on the other   
end But who am I kidding? Only my Colonel O'Neill is irreverent enough to call a   
guy up just to yell at him.   
"Yes, Colonel you will." McKenzie says with finality. "As I told the General, you are   
very welcome to sit in with Dr. Jackson as I.." Apparently this isn't what Jack   
wanted to hear, for he interrupts the doctor yet again.   
  
"Yes Colonel, it is necessary. I know there were extenuating circumstances in what   
occurred these last few days, but I still feel that there are inherent risks with your   
work that must be assessed…" Jack *so* does not like that.. Even 20 feet away I   
can hear some distinct indignation.  
  
"I know that Colonel," McKenzie says with growing frustration. "You and I both know   
that the other members of your team have unique…traits that Doctor Jackson lacks."   
See? My Colonel Jack.  
  
Unique traits?  
  
"Unlike the rest of you, Dr Jackson has never…" McKenzie pauses and darts his eyes   
furtively around the room. Right. Like a bunch of career coffee drinkers are *so*   
scary. Quickly I divert my eyes and begin typing something completely random onto   
my paper. Hey! Is it my fault the guy is talking loud? It's not like my sole purpose   
in life is to eavesdrop on customers…  
  
"Colonel, I cannot get into this with you now as I am in a public place I only wish to   
talk with Dr. Jackson.."  
  
"No Colonel." McKenzie says with a heavy sigh. "I do not plan to drug him." What?!   
Instantly the hairs on my arms stand straight up and I unconsciously scooch my   
chair back slightly in an attempt to hear just a little bit more. Who the hell is this   
doctor?? Doesn't he know that Daniel had a substance abuse problem in the past? I   
might not know what he was addicted to last year, but it sure as hell was something.   
He definitely doesn't need some doc to pump him full of anything new.  
  
"Colonel," McKenzie says with finality. "We will not have this conversation on the   
telephone. You are welcome to make an appointment with my assistant or come by   
with Dr. Jackson at 13:00." Before Jack can say anything in return, McKenzie hangs   
up and walks back over to the coffee line. Guess the guy has some cojones** after   
all. Hanging up on an angry Colonel is definitely not something I would do.  
  
Feeling pretty apprehensive (for Daniel's sake) and more than a little hungry, I   
power down my computer (yet again) and put it back into it's case. I had just   
finished zipping it up when I hear the front door open and spy a very familiar figure   
in khaki and chambray. Holy Crap! I haven't a clue what went on between Daniel   
and this Dr. McKenzie fella, but it sure as heck can't be good.  
  
Instantly I go on the offensive. With McKenzie back in line and looking at the menu   
on our wall, I decide to try and distract Daniel. Wish I could do what he did to me   
last January…but I think a quasi-passionate kiss in the center of a coffeehouse would   
attract attention, not deflect it. Quickly I toss my sweater onto the laptop (yeah   
right, as if that could hide this monstrous thing!) and high tail it over to Daniel.  
  
"Hey Daniel!" I say enthusiastically while trying to keep my voice down.  
  
"Hi Kira." Daniel says in return as he stops for a moment and gives me a small   
smile. I refuse to look overly concerned, as I take in his pale complexion and the   
way his hands tremble just a little. He's wearing a dark long sleeve sweater, and I   
can't help but imagine dozens of little puncture marks marring his otherwise perfect   
skin. I bite my lip to stop the urge to cry. Hormones *totally* suck.  
  
Daniel of course sees right through me, and his brow wrinkles in concern. "What's   
wrong Kira?"   
  
"I.." Before I even get a chance to try out my lame excuse, Daniel catches sight of   
the one man he never expected to see in his coffee shop. The look Daniel gives   
McKenzie as he turns around holding a steaming cup of drip coffee was cold. Glacial   
cold. The doctor looks surprised to see Daniel and more than a little wary.  
  
"Dr. McKenzie." Daniel says in a low, strained voice as he levels his baby blue eyes   
on the doctor. I have seen Daniel go through the gamut with his emotions, but   
never have I seen him look so angry. Whatever this McKenzie guy did to him, it was   
bad.   
  
"Dr. Jackson." McKenzie says cautiously in return. The two men regard one another   
silently for several long moments. Those proverbial pin-dropping moments you read   
about in books? This was *so* one of them. God, the suspense was killing me, and I   
just stepped into the situation. Finally McKenzie blinks, ending the standoff between   
the two men.  
  
"So how are you feeling Daniel?" The doctor asks in an honestly concerned voice.  
  
"As if you don't know." Daniel growls in return. My eyes widen a little at Daniel's   
tone. Whoa! Remind me never to get Daniel mad at me.   
  
"Dr. Jackson," McKenzie replies in a strained voice. "I was only doing what I thought   
was best."  
  
"What you thought was *best*?!" Daniel spits out, face reddening in anger.  
  
"Daniel, if you'd stop for a minute and listen.."  
  
"No you listen Doctor." Daniel says becoming more and more irate. "I don't like   
you! I don't respect you and I sure as hell don't want to see you in my coffee shop   
less than 24 hours after *begging* you to release me from a mental institution!"  
  
Mental institution?!  
  
"You and your single post-doctorate degree, had me diagnosed, drugged and carted   
off to an asylum within 48 hours of becoming symptomatic!"   
"Forty-Eight hours." Daniel says again enunciating the time frame very clearly.  
  
McKenzie has the good graces to look chagrinned. I just stand there completely   
stunned by what I have just heard. "Daniel," He says softly, "you know there were   
extenuating circumstances.."  
  
"No!" Daniel yells exploding with anger and causing everyone in the room to stop   
what they're doing and stare at the two men. Daniel takes a deep breath. "No." He   
repeats quietly this time, clenching his fists and making eye contact once again at   
the doctor.  
  
"You," Daniel continues pointing a long tapered finger at the psychologist. "Are very   
much aware of what I see and do. And for you and Frasier to deem me   
schizophrenic..? Daniel pauses a moment to rein in his emotions. He takes another   
deep shuddering breath and I feel the edges of my eyes prickle with moisture. God!   
What in the hell did they do to Daniel?!  
  
"In my book McKenzie, what you did to me was near criminal." Daniel says with   
finality, all his anger and emotion now spent. I can tell from the look on Dr.   
McKenzie's face, that there was plenty more he wanted to say to Daniel, but I guess   
a public coffee shop isn't the place to do so. He takes a tentative step towards   
Daniel, and after assessing that Daniel wasn't going to deck him one, opens his   
mouth to say one final thing.   
  
"I'm truly sorry for what happened Dr. Jackson." He says. "We can talk more about   
this later this afternoon." Whether McKenzie was finished talking or not is not clear,   
as Daniel just gives him a curt nod and turns away.  
  
"I bet you are." I hear Daniel mumble as he walks over to the rather slow moving   
coffee line (everyone was still pretty much eavesdropping on their conversation). I   
watch as the Doctor puts on his overcoat. He is about to exit when he turns back   
around.  
  
"Go easy on the caffeine Dr. Jackson." He says with some authority before turning   
back around and walking out the front door. God, am I ever grateful that Victor   
asked me to work today.  
  
"Daniel?" I ask quietly as I walk up beside him and place a hand on his arm. I am   
not exactly thrilled to feel a faint trembling beneath my fingertips. Whether it's from   
adrenaline or drugs is unclear.  
  
"Sorry Kira." Daniel says giving me a weak smile. as he audibly exhales. "I didn't   
exactly plan on running into the man who had me committed against my will at a   
coffee shop." Now it's my turn to pale considerably. Forcibly committed?   
  
"Want to talk about it?" I ask softly. Daniel shakes his head no.  
  
"Not really." He says hugging his arms to his chest and turning away in order to look   
at the drink board. I nod my understanding and continue to stand with him in line.  
  
"Jack called McKenzie right before you walked in." I say conversationally.  
  
"Really?" Daniel says still staring at the reader board. I nod.  
  
"Yep. He yelled at McKenzie so loud, the entire coffee shop heard his opinion of the   
good doctor."  
  
"Such a shame." Daniel says drolly cracking a small smile.   
  
"Are you going to be ok, Daniel?" I ask taking Daniel's hand in mine and giving it a   
small squeeze.  
  
"I'm going to be fine Kira." Daniel replies finally turning around and looking at me.   
"It's been a rough couple of days, but outside of dealing with McKenzie this   
afternoon, everything is pretty much back to normal."  
  
"That's good." I say releasing his hand as Daniel gets to the front of the line and   
places his order. (Double tall Americano- half caff, half caff-free) Tina gives Daniel   
his drink with a smile and Daniel puts $2 dollars into the tip jar (one for each of   
them).   
  
"How's that paper coming along?" Daniel asks as he walks over to the condiments   
counter and puts a little cream into his coffee.  
  
"Just finished actually." I say sheepishly pointing to my poorly covered laptop in the   
corner. Good thing this isn't a high crime area (random hold-ups not withstanding).  
  
"I'd love to read it Kira."   
  
"Really?"   
  
"Absolutely!" Daniel says with real enthusiasm. "You have a genuine grasp of   
antiquities Kira and I'd love to see what you put together on the emergence of early   
Indo-Europeans." I stand there grinning like an idiot.  
  
"I'm not certain if I'll be going out of town later this week, but why don't you email it   
to me and I'll take a look at it as soon as I can?" Daniel takes a small notebook out   
of his pocket and jots down his email address.  
  
"That would be great Daniel!" I gush as he hands over the paper. Sure, he's helped   
me with papers in the past, but never has he had a chance to look at a long research   
paper in its entirety. This paper was truly going to be proofed! My smile fades a   
little as I realize Daniel is about to leave and go meet *that* man.  
  
"Have Colonel Jack sit in with you this afternoon Daniel." I say suddenly. Daniel   
instantly knows what I'm talking about but instead of acting relieved or interested,   
he tenses up again.  
  
"I'm a little mad at Jack as well Kira." He says softly.  
  
"He let you go." I say suddenly understanding.   
  
Daniel nods. "He allowed McKenzie and his band of quacks take me away."  
I bite my lip and tell myself to just shut the hell up. I don't know anything about   
this.   
  
Naturally I don't listen.  
  
"I'm sure he wouldn't have let you go unless it was for your own good Daniel."   
  
"I know." Daniel says with a sigh. "Jack's a pretty smart guy Kira, but this was   
something he knew nothing about and the only thing he could do was trust in what   
the doctors were saying." There was something about the way Daniel said 'doctors'   
that caused my ears to perk up.  
  
"Janet too?"   
  
"Janet too." Daniel replies curtly.  
  
"Janet's a medical doctor, right?" I ask; Daniel nods. "So she was probably relying   
on McKenzie and the other Psychologists for her information, right?" Daniel nods   
again briefly before turning it into a definite no.  
  
"She should have known Kira. They all should have known. People don't just   
suddenly develop severe changes in their brain chemistry. There usually is a   
reason."  
  
"And everyone agreed with McKenzie's reason." I supply.  
  
"And everyone was wrong." Daniel finishes.  
  
"You're here now." I counter.  
  
"I got better." Daniel says shrugging.  
  
"And they believed you?" I ask.  
  
"They had to." Daniel says with a humorless chuckle. "Once Jack came by and saw   
that I was more or less back to my old self, he insisted they release me. I think   
threats of bodily harm were used…"  
  
"So in the end, Jack did believe you."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I bet he feels pretty horrible for what happened Daniel."  
  
"Him and me both." Daniel says with another sigh. "I need to go Kira." Daniel says   
sounding like a convicted man going to his execution.  
  
"Let Jack sit in with you Daniel." I ask again. "I think only you might prevent him   
from knocking the Doctor's lights out."  
  
"You're probably right." Daniel says heading towards the door. "But I'd sure like to   
see it!" He says turning towards me and offering a genuine smile.  
  
"Take care Daniel." I say reaching up and giving him a brief hug. Daniel's arms   
tighten around me and I swear I hear someone sigh behind the espresso machine.   
My long-standing crush on Daniel is not a secret.  
  
"Thanks Kira."  
  
And with that Daniel exits the coffee shop and heads back to his life in that stuffy old   
mountain up the street. I am certain he'll be ok and my stomach suddenly growls   
quite loudly in agreement.  
  
"I'm going, I'm going." I mutter as I quickly stash my laptop in the back room and   
head out to get me some food.  
  
"I'll be back in 15 I tell the girls as I leave the shop and head towards the deli down   
the street. I pass by a vendor selling cayenne pepper oil and make a mental note to   
pick some up on my way back.  
  
I know exactly what to add to the good Doctor's coffee the next time he comes into   
the shop.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
November 15, 2003  
  
* BCE- Stands for Before [the] Common Era. This is the standard academic way of   
denoting the years prior to 0. BCE=BC and CE (Common Era) is another way of   
saying AD.  
  
** cojones- Spanish (maybe slang?) for balls.  
  
A/N: Hope you liked it. I know adding a couple extra pages in length can't make up   
for not posting for two months, but I hope it helped at least a little…  
  
I'm off to my first ever Stargate convention (I'm such a nerd) but will hopefully use   
part of the time to work on both another Barista and finish off Imbroglio. School will   
be ending in mid December and I plan on writing up a storm during those three   
weeks of freedom.  
  
Hmmm- I think I need to work on my melodrama a little… 


	23. Bar Talk

Chapter 23 (Season 304)- Bar Talk  
Takes place after episode 307, Point of View  
  
I haven't mentioned it in a while, but these characters aren't mine. I'm just   
borrowing them for Kira to play with. *G*  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I know this type of thing happens all the time, but I really never thought it would   
happen to me- at least not at the still nubile age of 21.  
  
I've been stood up.  
  
I swirl the watery cream remaining in my white russian and contemplate heading   
home. Ever sat by yourself in a semi-crowded bar? Give it a shot sometime and see   
how much of a loser you feel like. I self-consciously straighten my knee length black   
dress and vow to never go on a blind date again. Or at least not one arranged by a   
casual acquaintance.   
  
I sigh again and look around the comfortably furnished room. Well at least he picked   
a good bar. I can't help but smile to myself as I recall the last time I had been to   
O'Malleys. I seriously doubt I'll ever have another birthday party that will top that   
one! Hey! Maybe I'll get lucky and run into Daniel? I blush as I remember that   
rather fabulous dip and kiss he gave me last year. Daniel and I never really talked   
about it but apparently Stefan has the photos to prove it wasn't just an alcohol-  
induced fantasy. He only showed them to me once before tucking them into his back   
pocket and telling me I'll get them all later. Tease. Big, fat, faggy tease! Wonder   
how his boyfriends put up with him? I'm sure the fact that Stefan is in fact gorgeous,   
thin and has a smile that would melt icecaps has something to do with it. Bastard.  
  
I shake myself out of Daniel memory number 21 and wonder if maybe I'll see Jack or   
Sam? Heck, I'll even take their friend Murray right about now.  
  
Right.   
  
Like they have nothing better to do than hang out at O'Malleys on a Wednesday   
night. I sigh and signal the barman for my tab. He's been looking at me a little   
funny all evening and I wonder if he thinks I'm underage or something. Nope. Not   
this time buddy. I sigh and chew on my remaining ice cubes.  
  
God, I hate dating.  
  
I had just bent down to get my purse when I hear them.  
  
"We're not going to talk about it Daniel." Jack?  
  
"Talk about what Jack?" Daniel!   
  
"Exactly." Jack says with a finality that prohibits further discussion.  
  
"Colonel. Dr. Jackson." The bartender says noticing Jack and Daniel. Wow. Guess   
the guys come in here more often than I thought. I debate whether I should make   
my presence known, but I'm kind of getting a kick out of seeing the 'Jack and Daniel   
Show' in secret. Besides, I'm a good 4 stools down and a rather amorous (and tall)   
couple is sitting next to me blocking any real view Jack and Daniel might have of me.   
Plus there's the fact that I'm all dressed up and the guys aren't probably expecting   
to see their barista at 10 pm at their local haunt.  
  
"Hey John." Jack says amicably as he and Daniel sit down at the edge of the bar.  
  
"Your usual?" John asks.  
  
Jack must have nodded. "Yeah- and some Bushmills on ice."  
  
"Whiskey, Jack?" Daniel asks.  
  
"You have a problem with that Daniel?" Jack counters.  
  
"I'll be right back with your drinks Colonel. Daniel, you want a cider?"  
  
"Sissy girly drink." Jack mutters under his breath. I can't be sure, but I think Daniel   
shoots Jack a dirty look.  
  
"I'll have a glass of whatever amber you have on tap."  
  
"Way to be a man, Daniel!" Jack declares. "Before you know it, you'll have chest   
hair and everything!" I snort loudly and quickly look down just in case they glance   
my way. I knew Jack had a sense of humor, but I never realized it was this evil. He   
and Stefan really should talk.  
  
"Shut up Jack." Daniel says as if he's heard all of this before. "At least here I can   
count on some decent beer here and not that crap that you usually drink at home."  
  
"Budweiser is not crap." Jack states authoritatively. "It's a good honest American   
beer.."  
  
"That tastes like camel piss." Daniel finishes.  
  
Before Jack can counter with what I'm sure would have been another zinger, the   
bartender returns with their drinks. I quietly order another one of my own and sit   
back and listen in.   
  
"So." Daniel says taking a small sip of his beer and giving Jack a sideways look.   
"Dr. Carter."   
  
Dr. Carter? Is he talking about Sam? But wouldn't he have said 'Sam' or 'Major   
Carter'?   
  
"Daniel." Jack says in that scary quiet voice of his taking a sip of his whiskey.  
  
"Yes, Jack?" Daniel replies clearly not deterred.  
  
"We're not going there." He gives Daniel a very pointed look and I can almost   
imagine Jack holding up a finger or two in admonishment.  
  
"Going where, Jack?" Daniel questions innocently. Even I can tell he is just being a   
smart ass.  
  
"God, I hate it when you do that!" Jack declares loudly with a huff. He lowers his   
voice again. "There is nothing to discuss Daniel, so can you just drop it." Idly Jack   
grabs a handful of peanuts from the bar and dumps them on a napkin. He places   
two side by side and then flicks one quite soundly in Daniel's direction where it   
bounces off of his right cheek.  
  
"Dammit Jack, that hurt." Daniel says testily rubbing his cheek.   
  
Jack sounds contrite. "Sorry Daniel. I forgot." I steal another glance in their   
direction and am surprised to see a rather nasty looking abrasion on the side of   
Daniel's face. Man, being an archaeologist is rough! It looks like Daniel has been in   
an accident of some kind. Well, actually, it kind of looks like he was in a fight.   
  
And I don't think Daniel won.  
  
"You really need to learn to duck." Jack says affectionately eyeing Daniel's face as   
he takes another drink of his beer.  
  
"Against 12?" Daniel counters.  
  
"Couldn't have hurt."  
  
"Right. I'm sure that would have made all the difference." Daniel says wryly.   
  
"At least they didn't break your glasses this time." Jack continues. Daniel chuckles   
and then grimaces slightly as it obviously caused his face discomfort. Wonder what   
happened?  
  
"You should hear my optometrist Jack! He thinks I'm the clumsiest guy on the   
planet!"  
  
"You mean you aren't?" Jack counters obviously enjoying the little Dr. Jackson   
ribbing session.  
  
"Not on purpose!" Daniel says whining a bit. "Is it my fault it seems to be a galactic   
rule to pick on the guy with glasses?"  
  
"You could wear your contacts more often?" Jack offers helpfully.  
  
"Jack, I'm an archaeologist- sticking a piece of plastic in my eye and then running   
around in the very gritty elements is just not my idea of a good time."  
  
"So, what is your idea of a good time Dr. Jackson?" Jack asks with a grin. I can see   
that Daniel is now starting to get annoyed.  
  
"Doctor. Carter." Daniel says enunciating the title and looking at Jack triumphantly   
as he takes another swig of his beer. Who the hell is this Dr. Carter person?! Jack is   
obviously annoyed that Daniel chose to bring back this topic of conversation.  
  
"Drop it Daniel." Jack says looking down and swirling the ice around his glass.  
  
"I'm just saying Jack that you didn't exactly pull away."  
  
"Daniel, we are not going to discuss it." Jack replies clearly meaning every word.   
Whoever this Dr. Carter is or was, Jack clearly is uncomfortable talking about him.   
  
Or her.  
  
"Jack, have you at least talked to Sam about it?" Hmm. Now this is getting   
interesting.  
  
Jack guffawed. "Right Daniel. 'Hey Carter- listen, about that kiss I shared with your   
Doppelganger..' I'm sure that would go over really well." WHAT? Doppelganger?   
Does Sam have a twin sister or something? Wait a second, did Jack just say kiss?  
  
"This is hard for her too Jack."  
  
"Daniel," Jack says turning around in his stool to face his friend head on. I resist the   
urge to duck knowing that he can't possibly see me through the other couple. "What   
Carter and I have to deal with is absolutely nothing compared to what Dr. Carter   
went through. What Dr. Carter is going through right now."  
  
"So you're saying it was a pity kiss?" Daniel probed.  
  
"She kissed *me* Daniel." Jack says in exasperation.  
  
"And you didn't exactly pull away Jack."  
  
"For crying out loud Daniel, the woman just lost her entire…" He pauses considering   
his words. His voice softens noticeably. "She had just lost everything Daniel, I   
wasn't going to make it harder than it already was." Daniel ponders this for several   
seconds and nods.   
  
"So what did you and the General talk about?" Daniel asks causally. Jack shoots   
Daniel a look that would wither lesser men and attempts to change the subject.  
  
"Hockey scores."  
  
"Uh huh." They sit for several moments in compatible silence.  
  
"I seriously don't see Carter that way Daniel." Jack says finally.  
  
"You sure?" Daniel asks without a hint of sarcasm. Jack sighs.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure." Jack says sincerely. "I really am Daniel. I think I convinced   
Hammond but you'll need to talk to Carter and make sure she's ok with the whole   
thing."  
  
"You can't?"  
  
"I'm a Colonel Daniel- I delegate." Daniel rolls his eyes. Even from across the bar I   
could see him roll his eyes.  
  
"This isn't something you should delegate Jack."  
  
"This is something I *totally* need to delegate Daniel." Jack counters. "It's creepy   
enough as it is without getting Carter all weirded out…"  
  
"I think we're a little too late for that Jack."  
  
"Yeah." Jack agrees finishing his scotch and starting on his beer.   
  
I stay at the bar for another 30 minutes or so catching snippets of their conversation   
as I try to ignore the rather blatant pick up lines that are coming at me from all   
sides. If the guys weren't old enough to be my father I might have been flattered.  
  
Maybe.  
  
I decide it's time to go when I notice that Romeo and Juliet (the couple on my left)   
are getting ready to leave as well. I don't want to risk having Jack and Daniel see   
me, so I pay my bill and gather my things. My back is turned away from the bar as I   
put on my sweater and catch one final snippet of conversation.  
  
"Jack?" Daniel asks in a tone of voice that indicates he is seriously going for the   
jugular. It's that voice that says 'I'm going to say something you really aren't going   
to like and there's nothing you can say to stop me.'  
  
"Yes, Daniel?" Jack replies cautiously.  
  
"Obviously you prefer blondes." Daniel states matter of factly.   
  
"Daniel…" Jack begins tiredly. I take it we're back to that woman Jack kissed. Oops-   
sorry Jack. I mean the woman who kissed Jack.  
  
"And of course, it's also blatantly apparent that you like tall blondes…" Blatantly   
apparent?   
  
"Shut up Daniel."  
  
"Outside of Kynthia of course, but there was definitely an extenuating circumstance   
surrounding that."  
  
"Shut *up* Daniel." Jack tries again.  
  
"But what I really want to know," Daniel continues pausing only long enough to   
insure he has Jack's complete attention. "Is whether you prefer her with long or   
short hair?"  
  
"Check!" Jack shouts as I open the door and exit the bar.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Author's Musings (the extended version): For those unfamiliar, Bushmills is indeed a   
pretty good whiskey. (If you actually like whiskey) And an amber is a type of beer   
somewhat between a lager and a stout. I guess a bitter would be a pretty good   
approximation. Only a good tasting bitter!  
  
I promised this series wouldn't get shippy, and I think I managed to remain true to   
the show (Roxie, you just let me know, ok?) BUT I *am* a shameless shipper and   
after watching this episode again, I realized that this is really where it all began.   
Sure Jack got an eyeful when SG-1 was captured by Hathor- but he was pretty much   
just being a guy oogling at a semi-clothed woman. The hug shared by those two in   
"Into the Fire" was pretty impressive, but I'll chock that up to the fact that Jack had   
just risen from the dead and emotions were a bit…er…high.)   
  
But everything changed with this episode. Jack truly was confused about the   
possibility of him and Sam being together. You could totally see it on his face   
throughout the ep. And after the cat was let out of the bag with Kawalsky's "You   
think I would let my best friend's wife go back alone?" crack? Oh yeah. Now we   
have Sam completely confused. And thinking. Even if you are a non-shipper, you   
gotta realize how truly traumatic that kiss must have been for both of them. This is   
my attempt at playing with that. I swear on a stack of non-denominational bibles I   
will not turn this series into a Jack and Sam fest. But I seriously think Jack needed   
to talk about what happened after this episode and Kira just happened to be the little   
lady to overhear a bit of it.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	24. Comfort Food

Title: Barista 24-- Comfort Food  
Season: Season 3   
Spoilers: Forever In A Day  
Rating: PG   
Category: General, Angst 

Author's Notes: You guys know how I like to shake things up every now and then right? Well for this little Barista, we're going to try a little third person POV. Kira and her usual 1st person observations will return next time. 

* * *

Sam parked her bike a few blocks from the shop and pulled off her helmet. Running a hand through her hair, she secured her bike and stashed her helmet in the lock box. Feeling a little uncomfortable walking across a crowded arcade dressed in leather, Sam skirted the public square and walked down a back alley towards Victor's coffee shop. 

She was still more than a little irked at Janet for making her leave base last night. So what if she had been hovering around Daniel's side for the last 72 hours? Her plants had once survived almost 2 **weeks** without water, they could survive a couple of days. Why'd she have to leave and not the Colonel? And what about Teal'c? Sam was certain Janet would never ask Teal'c to leave. 

Teal'c. She had tried talking to Teal'c several times in the last few days but he remained as stoic as ever- maybe even more so. He would sit for endless hours staring at Daniel in silent mediation. Sam couldn't tell if he was kel'no'reeming or simply thinking. She knew she couldn't possibly imagine how Sha're's death must be effecting him. Hopefully the Colonel had been able to get him to talk. "Right." Sam muttered audibly to herself shaking her head. As if the Colonel was Mr. Communication himself. No, talking about issues and feelings was something Daniel did. And it scared the hell out of her that he wasn't doing so now.

Sam looked at her watch and determined that she still have two hours to kill before Janet would allow her on base. That should be plenty of time to pick up what was needed. Comfort food. Lots and lots of comfort food. And in Daniel's case comfort food was not comfort food without coffee- specifically, Kira's coffee. Sam couldn't think of anything Daniel might like better than a nice bag of freshly ground coffee from his favorite coffee shop. 

As she stepped through the front door, Sam suddenly frowned in realization. What had she thinking? Coffee and chocolate walnut cookies couldn't possibly offer Daniel any semblance of comfort! _Nothing_ could alter the reason why Daniel was stuck in the infirmary with a large blistering burn etched into his forehead and an impossible weight upon his heart. This was ridiculous! Sam turned to leave.  
  
"Hey Sam!" Kira called out cheerfully, catching sight of the tall blonde major walking through the front door. 

"Almost made it." Sam muttered to herself as she did her best to appear happy to see the young Barista.  
  
"Hi Kira." Sam said flatly. Try as she might, she couldn't sound carefree and happy in her greeting. Kira picked up on Sam's mood straight away.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Not only was Sam not smiling, but she looked like she had just lost her best friend. Instantly Kira paled. Ohmygod. Daniel! Where was Daniel? She glanced outside to confirm that Daniel really wasn't with her. 

"It's about Daniel isn't it?" Kira asked softly trying to quell the feeling of dread pooling in her stomach. Sam nodded and clenched her jaw tightly to keep the tears that threatened to fall at bay. She was not going to lose it in a coffee shop! 

"I'll be right back Sam." Kira said in a rush as she walked briskly towards the back room blinking rapidly. She had no idea what was going on, so it was no good to get all upset now. She did know that there was no way she was going to talk to Sam while she was slated to work the espresso machine. 

"Louise!" Kira called out as she spied her friend crouched down on her knees counting coffee cups. "Can you come out and cover the bar for a few minutes?" Louise took one look at her friend's pinched face and nodded.

"Just let me wash my hands." Louise said heading towards a small sink in the corner.

"Thanks Louise." Kira said to her friend as she untied her apron and headed back towards the store. "I'll come in on Saturday and finish up the inventory." She called out behind her as she made her way towards Sam. Her voice sounded so calm and normal and Kira marveled at her ability to remain rationale when inside she was ready to burst.

"Don't worry about it Kree." Louise said as she walked towards the register. It didn't escape Kira's notice that Sam visibly tensed at the sound of Kira's nickname. What the hell was with these military sorts and 'kree' anyhow? "Take all the time you need."

"Would you like anything to drink?" Kira asked leading Sam to a quiet table in the back of the store. She suddenly felt the need to delay the discussion with Sam. God. What if Daniel had died? He couldn't have died, right?

Right?

"I'm fine Kira." Sam said shaking her head no.

"No Sam, you're not." Kira said shaking her head. Something was seriously wrong and she needed to find out what. But first…  
  
"Well, I need something to drink, can I bring you something as well?" 

"Sure." Sam agreed recognizing the need for Kira to do something. "A cup of coffee would be great." Kira turned around to stand up only to have Louise set down a cup of both tea and coffee in front of them.  
  
"It's just black." Louise explained to Sam as she pushed the cup towards her. "I knew what Kree here would want and I just assumed that you weren't one of those weird people who don't like coffee."

"I'm not weird." Kira said absently cupping the warm drink with both hands.

"Sure you're not Kree." Louise said rolling her eyes. "Being Assistant Manager of a coffee shop and not drinking coffee is perfectly normal…" She said under her breath as she walked back to the register.

"When did you become Assistant Manager Kira?" Sam asked taking the opportunity to make small talk.

"Sometime last year." Kira said off handedly as she sipped her tea. "Sam," Kira said looking up and meeting Sam's eyes, "What happened to Daniel? Did he have another accident?"

"Kind of." Sam said looking down at her coffee. Kira resisted the urge to make another smart-ass comment about government agencies and their weird secrecy issues. The look on Sam's face was enough to convince her to just let that little bit of intrigue go for the moment.

"Is he in the hospital?" Kira asked trying to keep calm; Sam nodded.

"Is it serious?" Sam bit her lip considering what to tell the obviously distraught young woman. Suddenly a voice was heard across the room,

"Carter, what the hell are you doing here?" Jack O'Neill boomed out from the front of the store.

Sam whipped her head around and stared in disbelief at her disheviled CO still dressed in base attire.

"Sir?!"

"Carter?" Jack asked still confused as hell at seeing her sitting with Kira. This place wasn't anywhere near where Sam lived.

And, hold on, was she wearing _leather_?

"Who's with Daniel?" Sam said standing up suddenly and swaying slightly at the sudden movement. She couldn't bare the thought of her friend waking up alone. She really hoped the Colonel had missed her little wobble. Sam made a mental note to grab an apple or something. She hated the fact that her body seemed to have something against low blood sugar.

"T..Murray." Jack said quietly grabbing a seat neat to the two women. He hadn't missed how crappy Sam looked (leather pants not withstanding) and hoped the little woozy spell there was simply from standing up too quickly. "What are you doing here Sam?" Jack asked gently, completely ignoring Kira for the moment. "Have you eaten today? Didn't Fraiser order you to head on home?"

"I did go home Sir." Sam said scrupulously, completely ignoring the Colonel's first comment. 

"To change apparently." Jack said with a slight cock of his head as he gave Sam a quick once over; Sam had the good graces to blush.

"I just felt so useless Sir." Sam explained. "I needed to synthesize everything that had happened."

"And you felt the need to do that in leather Carter?" Jack asked smiling slightly. 

"Motorcycle Sir." Sam explained.

"Ah." 

Kira had patiently listened as Sam and Jack talked, but now she was growing anxious. "What the hell happened with Daniel?" She asked more sharply then she intended.

"Carter?" Jack queried.

"I haven't really said anything yet Sir." 

"Would you guys just stop and tell me what's going on!" Kira said angrily. "Daniel is obviously hurt, now can you guys tell me how badly?!" Jack exchanged glances with Sam and silently agreed to be the one to fill her in.

"You knew that Daniel was married, right?" Jack asked. Kira nodded.

"Three days ago Daniel's wife Sha're was killed." He explained softly. Sam closed her eyes at the unwanted vision of Daniel lying curled up on his side, reaching out towards the still body of his wife.

Kira blinked not quite comprehending what Jack was saying. "Daniel's wife was killed." She repeated, still confused. What had Daniel's wife had to do with Daniel's injury? 

"I don't understand," Kira said looking first from Jack and then back to Sam. "If Daniel's wife was killed, how did Daniel end up hurt?"

"He was there Kira." Jack explained patiently. "He…Things happened that were out of Daniel's control and while Daniel was…" Jack growled in frustration- he _so_ hadn't planned on having to explain this to someone not affiliated with the SGC. He unhappily played his trump card. "What happened is classified Kira." Jack said with another sigh watching the look of hurt and frustration flash across Kira's face. "Just know that Daniel was seriously injured while trying to get his wife back." That was the honest to god truth. The fact that he was trying to get his wife back from the Goa'uld enslaving her body was something he just couldn't explain. 

"Is he going to be all right?" Kira asked in a small voice looking down at her tea.

"Yes, he is." Jack said pointedly looking at both Kira and Sam. "In the meantime," He continued trying to put a positive spin on the day's events, "it looks like Major Carter had the same idea I had with bringing Daniel some of your coffee." 

"It won't bring Sha're back Sir." Sam said sadly shaking her head.

"No, it won't Carter." Jack agreed seriously. "But it might make Danny smile a little- even if it's just for a moment. And that's all we can hope for right now."

"Yes Sir." Sam said with another sigh. All of this was just too messed up. Teal'c shooting Sha're? How had Daniel been able to forgive him so completely?

"You sure he's ok?" Kira asked again needing to hear it again from Jack.  
"He'll be fine Kira." Jack said resting a hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"I'll go get you some coffee then." Kira said standing up and heading towards a very confused looking Louise.

"Better make it decaf!" Jack shouted over his shoulder.

"Colonel Jack," Kira called out as she looked up from a large bin of coffee beans. "Daniel has been injured at least four times since I've known him. Don't you think I know by now what he can and can't drink after an injury?" She gave Jack a small smirk and dug back into the bin.

"Carter, there is something fundamentally wrong with a Barista knowing about Daniel's medical conditions." Jack griped stealing a sip of Sam's coffee.

"Damn, that's good." Jack said taking another large gulp.

"Sir!" Sam chastised.

"Don't think I missed how you neglected to answer my question about food Major." Jack said handing back the nearly empty cup to Sam. 

"No Sir." Sam said resisting the urge to slouch down in her chair like a truant schoolgirl. 

"Carter, you need to eat."

"And you need to shower." Sam said in return. Seeing the look of shock on her CO's face, Sam added, "Sir."

"Excuse me Major?" Jack said bristling.

"Colonel," Sam said gently running through the 10 sure-fire ways to disarm an angry CO. "It's obvious that Janet sent you home for a rest as well. Judging from your attire, you left in a bit of a hurry that's all." 

"All she said was that I'd feel better after I spent some time at home." Jack paused and looked at Sam was a twinkle in his eye. "I had planned to go home, shower and change and then head straight back."

"Very sneaky Sir." Sam said with a small smile. She seriously doubted whether Janet would let Jack back into the infirmary if he returned so quickly.

"Here you go!" Kira said suddenly surprising both Jack and Sam. "1/4 pound freshly ground decaf Sumatra/Columbian and a little packet of those chocolate covered espresso beans Daniel likes so much." Her voice drops to a whisper as she leans her head in. "They aren't decaf, so hide them from Doctor Janet." 

"Will do Kira!" Jack says affectionately as he gathers up the small bundles. 

"I got here first, Sir." Sam says as she reached into her jacket pocket for her wallet.

"Yeah, but I just drank all your coffee Carter." Jack said pulling out his own wallet and handing Kira a $20 bill. "Keep the change Kira."

"Thanks Jack." Kira said giving him a small smile as she walked the officers out. "Tell Daniel to get better soon, ok?"

"I'm sure he'll be by as soon as Fraiser and her goons release him Kira." Jack said as he opened the door for Sam and himself.

"So Carter," Jack said as they walked down the alleyway towards Sam's bike. "What do you say to meeting up for a bite of lunch before heading back to the SGC?" 

"Only after you take a shower," Sam said with a twinkle in her eye resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose. "Sir."

* * *

A/N: This might be it for a while kids. The whole school thing has started again in earnest and I'm a little dismayed (read: Freaked Out) at the amount of reading. On the plus side, the class in Social Ethics looks mighty interesting and I'm certain I'll be able to (successfully) argue why I think the U.S. PATRIOT Act sucks eggs when I'm through. You know i'm a feedback whore, right? Go ahead and review and I just _might_ be able to post again before March. *G*   



	25. Slip of the Tongue

Title: Barista 25- Slip of The Tongue   
Author: dietcokechic   
Website: home.earthlink.net/~dietcokechic/fanfic.html   
Season: 3   
Spoilers: Past and Present (311), Jolinar's Memories (312) and The Devil You Know (313)   
Rating: Kira says a naughty word in this one folks; PG-13 for language.   
Category: Definitely humor. I think the late nights and diet coke consumption are starting to wreck havoc here… 

Author's Notes: In my defense, I just have to say, that Jack's reaction to his little play on words was exactly the same as mine. It was an accident people! I didn't mean to get all er… well…um… Oh, you'll see! Let me just say it was truly an accident in typing and I realized that if I could type it wrong, Jack sure as hell could say it wrong!   


* * *

The universe is out to get me. That's all there is to it - the universe is just plum out to get me. 

First, I find out that I will actually **not** be graduating this fall as previously planned, **then** my roommate tells me she is moving back home to save on rent and to top it all off, there seems to be problems with my student visa for Egypt next Spring! And if that wasn't enough, it also appears like my favorite archaeologist is avoiding me! Seriously. Daniel seems to be going out of his way to avoid me and I don't have a clue why. 

I continue muttering to myself about the unfairness of the life, the universe and everything as I get the store ready for opening. Till? Check. Cups and condiments stocked? Check. Toilet paper in the bathroom? Check. Time to let the games begin. I unlock the front door and really wish I were back in bed instead of here. Boy! Talk about a girl down in the dumps… I'm so not going to get good tips today. Maybe I shouldn't have taken Rachel's shift? Right Kira. Like you'd possibly turn down a girl who's Grandfather just died? Right. 

Sunday is definitely not my usual workday and I'm not sure what to expect as I open the door wide and let the late autumn sunshine filter in. Sure it's a bit chilly still, but I just want to air the place out a bit before closing the door and jacking up the heat. 

I'm nursing a cup of tea when he walks in; the great invisible Daniel Jackson himself. He's looking a little worse for wear (what the hell does he **do** down in that mountain?!) but generally ok. I might be imagining things, but I think that weird looking bug-bite thing is back as well. 

Bizarre. 

"Hi Daniel." I say. Damn, if I didn't startle the hell out of him. Daniel jerks at the sound of my voice; he really is avoiding me. Obviously he chose to come into the shop on a Sunday, as this is a day I normally wouldn't be here. 

Jerk. 

"Hey." Daniel replies quickly getting himself under control. He briefly makes eye contact with me before checking out the ever so interesting checkered linoleum floor. 

"How are you doing?" I ask nonchalantly tilting my head to the side to try and get a better look at the side of his face. Yep- that bug bite on his temple is back. It's not as red as the last one, but it's definitely there. 

"Fine." Daniel replies in a noncommittal voice. Really. Fine, huh? 

"Uh huh." I answer back as I go to the espresso machine and pull him a double shot. "How does a tall Americano sound?" I ask. 

"Sounds great." Daniel says looking up and catching my eye again briefly before turning back away. We stand in silence for a few seconds before Daniel says something. 

"So how's school?" He asks interested yet strangely aloof. It's so weird. It doesn't seem like Daniel's mad at me or anything, but he's definitely uncomfortable around me, and I haven't a clue why. 

"Ok." Two can play at this game. 

"Sorry I haven't been around to help lately." Daniel begins apologetically. 

"Yeah," I say handing Daniel his coffee. "Why is that Daniel?" I don't release the coffee when Daniel grabs hold of it and he looks up with me confusion. 

"Kira?" 

"So you do remember my name?" I joke releasing my hold on the coffee. Daniel looks at me sorrowfully and shakes his head. 

"I'm sorry." He whispers. My name is decidedly absent from his lips again. What the hell is going on? 

"Daniel?" I ask again touching his arm lightly. "What's going on?" 

"Umm…" Maybe Daniel would have explained on his own, but neither of us will really know as just then the sound of a voice being cleared was heard behind us. We both whip our heads around to find one amused looking Colonel. 

"Daniel." Jack says good-naturedly giving his friend a nod before turning his eyes on me. "And **Ki-ra**." He gives me a big grin and I swear I saw him wink at Daniel before sauntering over to the register. Well a saunter with a definite limp attached to it. Wait a second! Jack has that same damn bug-bite looking thing that Daniel has… 

"Seeing as Danny-boy is already here, I think I'll pick up some coffee for Sam and Murray." 

"Jack," Daniel says sighing. "What are you doing here?" 

"I thought that would be obvious to a multiple PhD-bearing guy like yourself Daniel." 

"Jack." Daniel says again shaking his head. "You followed me, didn't you?" 

"Now why would I do that Daniel?" Jack asks all cotton-candy sweet. 

"Because." Daniel replied petulantly. Funny how a guy who knows as many languages as Daniel, (I had him pegged so far at 11) could revert back to a 6 year old school kid around Jack. "How's the leg?" He asks trying to change the subject. 

Jack glances down at his right leg, "Ah, you know how it goes." Jack said shrugging again. Dr. Selmak repaired most of the damage, but Janet wants another week of PT." Jack says shrugging. "It looks fine, just feels stiff." 

"_Dr.Selmak_ huh?" Daniel said with what looked like a smile. 

"Hey, you're the one who.." 

"I know, I know." Daniel said holding up his hands to stop whatever it was that Jack was going to say. 

"Sam comes back today, right?" Daniel asks. 

"Yep." Jack says accepting two lattes that I had just whipped up. "Thanks Kira." Jack says politely. He looks at Daniel. "So what did Kira get you Daniel?" Jack asks eyes all smiling. 

"Very funny Jack." Daniel replies looking everywhere but at me. 

"Is there something I'm missing here guys?" I ask. 

"No."   
"Yes." 

You can guess who said what. I sigh and shake my head. "Daniel, is there something I did to make you angry at me?" I ask trying really hard not to take all of this personally. I can feel my lower lip start to tremble and I damn the pair of them for coming into the shop before I had drunk my required three cups of caffeinated tea. Tears are prickling the edges of my eyes and I suddenly realize I'm going to get my period in a few days. Fucking hormones! 

"Daniel," Jack chastises at seeing me so upset. "This isn't Kira's fault." He puts down his coffee and comes over and gives me a slight hug. "Daniel is having girl issues Kira." He says giving me a small smile before releasing me. 

I sniff. "Is that why you've been avoiding me Daniel?" I ask thinking back to that evening at the bar when he commented about my hair. "Because I remind you of your wife?" 

"Sha're?" Daniel says taken back. "You don't remind me of Sha're Kira." His voice softens at the sound of her name and he gets a sad wistful look about him. "You heard about that, huh?" 

"I'm really sorry about your wife Daniel." I say. Even if he is acting like a jerk at the moment, I am truly sorry Daniel lost his wife. 

"Yeah, me too." He says softly. 

"So why have you been avoiding me?" 

"Jack?" Daniel asks looking at his friend. 

"Don't look at me Daniel." Jack says shaking his head. "You're the peach eater around here..." Suddenly Jack's jaw drops off his hinges as his eyes widen in shock. His face breaks into a huge grin and he starts laughing. Well snorting really. 

"Oh God, Daniel, I didn't mean it like that. I have no idea if.." 

"Please stop Jack." Daniel says painfully struggling not to smile himself as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

"Although, come to think about it, I bet we did have some security cameras down there…" 

"You are an incredibly crass and vulgar man Jack O'Neill." Daniel says chuckling to himself. "And if any tapes should happen to find their way into the hands of Feretti and his friends, I will **personally** tell everyone about.." He pauses and gives me a little glance. "Let's just say 421 and leave it at that." 

"You wouldn't?!" Jack says aghast. 

"Just try me Jack." 

I can only stand there and shake my head; they're at it again. Talking weird secret stuff that I don't have a clue as to what it means. Still, it is damn entertaining and it seems to have broken through Daniel's awkwardness around me. I think. 

"You ok Daniel?" I ask again. 

"Fine, Kira." Daniel says looking at me with apologetic eyes. "Trust Jack to make me see the humor of the situation." 

"_Always_ trust Jack, Daniel." Jack calls out from the condiment area. 

"_Sometimes_ trust Jack." Daniel replies pulling out a $20 and handing it over to me and telling me to keep the change. They really should stop doing that. I must have "earned" over $100 in tips from these guys just this year alone! 

"_Mostly_ trust Jack." Jack says modifying his earlier statement. 

Daniel thinks for a moment and then replies, "_Usually_ trust Jack when a gun is pointed at you." 

Jack shakes his head and they're back to square one. "_Always_ trust Jack when a gun is pointed at you." 

They're still arguing over trust, guns and now something about snakes..? I close the door behind them and smile to myself. Maybe today won't be such a bad day after all.   


* * *

  
I _so_ had fun with this one guys (as if it isn't obvious!). Let me know what you think and maybe I won't have to wait until spring break to post again. Apparently fic writing is an incredibly powerful procrastinating tool..*G* 

Oh! I have no idea what Jack did on '421—I just know Jack has probably done all sorts of stupid things off world, and I'm certain Daniel is keeping track. Hey! That's a challenge out there!! Someone write a story that has Jack doing something incredibly stupid off world!! 

And finally, if you are curious, the last thing Daniel said to Jack was: "Usually trust Jack when a gun is pointed at you and snakes are in the grass." *G* 

Completed 1/19/04 


	26. 3 Questions

Barista 26  
  
Author's Notes: *does little waive* I'm back! Thank you to everyone who has sent me their support during these difficult, computer free days. I still don't have a computer of my own, but I do have access to one now, and that's all matters, right?  
  
A little Barista background is in order and I apologize in advance at the length- but I'm a big proponent for consistency and without an explanation, the following story might not make sense. For the most part, I take the dates for each of my vignettes directly from the episode air date. I might take a little license with the gap between seasons, but I try to keep dates more or less consistent. Now, in "reality" both 100 days, Urgo, and the Foothold stories all aired in November of 1999. Which of course is just bloody impossible, isn't it? You can't have Jack missing for three months and then have him back the next week! So here's where my artistic license comes in. I'm going to rearrange the episode order slightly so we still have 100 Days taking place in November, but the other two episodes occurring in February once Jack gets back. It isn't that much of a stretch and the Stargate continuum is more or less intact. Everybody straight? (Quiet Stefan, they know what I mean.)   
  
Right. Shutting up now. Enjoy the story! This one is basically for everyone who has written me over the (gasp) past year or so and hypothesized about Kira and Daniel and where this series might go. I'm telling you right now, it isn't quite going to end where/when/how you think it will. BUT, I'm going to give you a little, tiny sneak peak at something that may be important. Maybe. No-no- I'm not saying I'm ending the series anytime soon; I'm just giving Kira a little more information. You'll see.   
  
And everyone take note how nice and long it is, ok? It might have taken me 6 weeks, but I'm giving you all I can now!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Barista 26 – Three Questions  
Spoilers: 100 Days  
  
"Come on Victor!" I implore my boss as he dumps several boxes of Christmas decorations at my feet. "It isn't even Thanksgiving* yet! It's too early for…" I waive my hands distastefully over the boxes, refusing to look down. "This." I finish with a frown.  
  
"It's Wednesday afternoon Kira." Victor say jovially, completely unaffected by my outburst. "You close," he continues. "Which means you need to decorate the store after you lock up so that it will look nice and festive come Friday." He gives me a final wink, grabs a package of chocolate covered espresso beans and saunters out the front door.  
  
You know, if I didn't love the guy, I'd really hate him about now. Wonder if it's too late to switch shifts…? I kick the boxes into a corner and dejectedly make my way back to the bar. Stefan is just finishing up a caramel mochachino and shoots me a look somewhere between amusement and pity.  
  
"Not On Your Life." He mouths as he hands the drink to a customer. Damn. I was really hoping to get his help on this. I raise my eyebrows hopefully at Marcella and give her my best doe-eyed 'help me' look. Marcella just shakes her head and laughs as she counts back change to another customer.   
  
I dejectedly plop myself down in a chair near the back of the store and wonder if I wasn't working with a queen if my powers of manipulation would still work on men. Probably not. I just don't seem to have that inherent ability to look innocent.   
  
Daniel has that look.   
Daniel might help me.   
Daniel..  
  
Daniel just walked in through the front door! I quickly jump to my feet and can't help but smile. I hadn't seen my favorite customer for a couple weeks now and was wondering what he was up to. Contrary to what Stefan may think, I don't actually lust after Daniel anymore. Really! He has more or less left my fantasy world and is now just considered a really good friend. A good friend who happens to look really good in jeans and has the softest lips I have ever drunkenly laid my lips on.  
  
I'm really not helping myself here, am I?   
  
Daniel still hasn't caught sight of me yet, and I take a moment to really look at him while he talks to Stefan. He looks tired. Thankfully, he doesn't appear bruised, drugged or hurt in any way. Just tired. Tired and worried.  
  
'Dr. Jackson!" Stefan says loudly sending me a not so secret smirk.  
  
"Hi Stefan." Daniel says amicably giving Stefan a small nod.  
  
"Happy Thanksgiving." Stefan continues. "Have any big plans for gobble-gobble day?"  
  
"Huh?" Daniel asks looking a little confused. "Oh, right. Thanksgiving." He gives a little shrug. "I had forgotten all about it actually."  
  
"Forgotten Thanksgiving!?" Stefan says feigning shock. "Man, where have *you* been these last few weeks?" He looks at Daniel gravely and stage whispers, "You aren't one of those freaky vegetarian types are you?" Obviously that last line was for my ears. Stefan thinks my vegetarianism is "odd and unnatural". This coming from a man who has dated more men than *I* have!  
  
Daniel shakes his head, "No, I'm not a vegetarian." He says continuing to look uncomfortable. I recognize this as "Daniel Discomfort Look #3"; the look that says, 'there is a perfectly reasonable explanation here, but I can't really share it with you' look. Betcha he was out of town again. Simple, really.  
  
"Oh give it a rest Stefan!" I say coming around the counter and rescuing Daniel. "The guy travels a lot for work, and I'm guessing he was simply out of town and hadn't noticed what holiday was coming up. Right Daniel?  
  
"Exactly." Daniel says nodding. He gives me a thankful smile and asks Stefan for a triple tall Americano.  
  
"For here or to go?" Stefan asks.  
  
"I'll drink it here actually." Daniel says nudging my shoulder. "That is if a certain Barista can sit with me for a bit." I blush (only a little) and nod. "I haven't had a chance to really talk to you in weeks Kira." Daniel explains as we walk towards a table near the windows.   
  
We sit down in the comfortable lounge chairs and I can't help but blurt out the first thing that pops into my head, "Rough day at the office?" Daniel looks at me with one of those coy, 'what do you know' looks of his. I just shrug. "You look tired Daniel."   
  
He sighs. "I am tired." He pauses contemplating his next words. "Jack's missing Kira."  
  
'Missing?" I repeat. As in missing in action? Dead? A myriad of emotions play across my face and Daniel gently places a hand across my own before I can truly reach panic mode. "He's not dead Kira; just missing."  
  
"Oh." I say softly letting that knowledge sink in. Stefan comes by and gives Daniel his coffee. He must have recognized that we were talking about something serious because for once in his life he didn't crack a joke.  
  
"Missing," I repeat. "Do you know where he is?"  
  
Daniel pauses for a moment to again contemplate his answer. "Yes. We think we do."  
  
"But.." There's always a 'but' when it comes to Daniel and his friends.  
  
"But we can't get to him right now." There is obviously way more to the situation than Daniel can probably tell me and although it's killing me not to ask for more details, I know Daniel is letting me know all he can.  
  
"Oh." Big talker Kira. I am pretty much confused here as it seems to me that if they know where he is, why don't they just go in and get him? Obviously I don't know the full story. I never do.  
  
"It's complicated Kira." Daniel says softly taking a drink of his coffee. "You know I'd tell you more if I were able too." I nod; I know that.  
  
"The military totally sucks Daniel." I say as I slump my shoulders in defeat.  
  
"Don't let Jack here you say that Kira!" Daniel says smiling. "He really is hoping you'll join the Air Force."  
  
I guffaw loudly and shake my head. "Daniel, I am *never* going to join the Air Force." I say forcibly.  
  
"Good!" He says taking another sip. "Jack owes me $10!"   
  
"You bet on me?" I ask incredulously.  
  
"Oh we bet on just about everything." Daniel says eyes twinkling.   
  
"You have a very strange job Daniel." I say finally.  
  
"That I do." Daniel agrees with a chuckle. "So, how's school?" He asks changing the subject. I still want to know more about Colonel Jack, but I guess I can take comfort in knowing that Daniel and Sam will do everything they can to bring him home.  
  
"Actually.." I say straightening up a little. "I'm graduating in a few weeks."  
  
"You are?" Daniel says. "That's wonderful Kira!" If we were standing, I think he would have hugged me. Damn. Missed opportunity! Hey, I might not lust after the guy, but I can still appreciate a Daniel hug, can't I?   
  
"If you had asked me last month, I would have spun this long sob story about how I was 4 credits shy of the 180 credits needed to graduate."  
  
"So what happened?" Daniel asks.   
  
"What happened is that my advisor went to bat for me and managed to convince the Graduate Committee that the time I spent abroad between high school and college should count for something." I give him a big grin. "Apparently exploring Iraq al-Amir** is good for four credits! I wrote a 15 page paper on my observations and voila!"  
  
"You never told me you went to Jordan!" Daniel says sounding a little amazed.   
  
"You knew I traveled to the Middle East though, right?" I asked. Maybe he didn't remember? I mean talking with Daniel about Egypt seems like it happened ages ago. Can't believe it was almost three years ago.  
  
"Sure, I remember that." Daniel says waggling his eyebrows up and down. "Back then you had a crush on me."  
  
"Daniel!" I say blushing.  
  
"Yes, Kira?" Pure innocence. Yep- Daniel Jackson does indeed have that innate innocent look.   
  
"If you must know, I still had a crush on Colonel Jack back then." I don't feel the need to tell him that it was only a few weeks later that my er.. *perfectly normal*, er..*thoughts* about him began.  
  
"Jack?!" Daniel repeated loudly. "But he's old enough to be your father!" Did he have to shout it out so loud the rest of the coffee shop can hear? Geesh.  
  
"Thanks for pointing that out Daniel." I say resisting the urge to find a nice mound of sand to bury my head into.   
  
"Jack." Daniel repeats still chuckling to himself.   
  
"Daniel," I say sternly. "You are not to repeat that to Jack!"  
  
"Please?" Daniel implores. Man, Daniel should really bottle this power of persuasion thing he has going! Maybe he should work as a U.N translator or something- I bet he could persuade just about anyone to do anything. Hey! Maybe I can turn this around to my advantage.  
  
"What will you give me in return Dr. Jackson?" I ask coquettishly.   
  
"3 questions." Daniel replies instantly. "I'll answer any three questions you have about me.." I open my mouth to ask what I am *really* dying to know when Daniel puts in the obligatory caveat. "But, you know there are issues relating to National Security that I just can't talk about."   
  
Damn. So close! Still, there are one or two things Daniel has never told me that shouldn't be a big dark secret.  
  
"Agreed." I say pulling my chair closer and getting comfortable. "Question number 1- How many languages do you actually know Daniel?"  
  
"Speak, read, or write?" Daniel asks. My eyes widen.   
  
"All!"   
  
"That would technically be three questions Kira; how many languages do I speak; how many languages do I read and how many languages do I write?"  
  
"Oh no you don't!" I quickly reply. "I'd like to know all three, but this is just one question, so if you don't want to tell me how many languages you can read or write, let's just stick to speaking."  
  
"Ever consider the legal profession Kira?"  
  
"Answer the question Daniel."  
  
"Fine. I'll tell you all three for the price of one question. I am knowledgeable in 29 languages. I speak 27, can read 29 and can write 24." Holy crap. My mouth drops open on its own accord and I stare at him in awe. Daniel, you are my hero! My linguistic hero!  
  
"Kira?" Daniel asks worriedly. "You ok with this?"  
  
"Ok with you being probably the smartest guy on the planet?" I retort. "Sure, why not?"  
  
Daniel's turn to snort and shake his head. "I'm not the smartest guy on the planet Kira."  
  
"Pretty damn close!"  
  
"Not even remotely close." Daniel qualifies. "I'm just good with languages."  
  
"I'll say!"  
  
"What's your second question?" Seeing as I'm still reeling from the first question, I'm a little at a loss for words. Daniel knows *twenty-nine* languages?!  
  
"Kira?"  
  
"Gimme a second here." I say holding up a hand. I shake my head and realize what I want to ask.   
  
"How did you and Jack meet?" Daniel rubs his forehead and thinks for a minute.   
  
"There will be holes in this one Kira, but that's because some of it falls under that "national security" thing, ok?" I nod. "But I'll tell you what I can.  
  
"About 5 years ago, a lovely older woman came to me one day and asked me to help translate something. The something in question actually belonged to the military and I had to sign a gazillion papers before they'd let me see it."  
  
"What was it?" I asked.   
  
"Is that question 3?" I opened my mouth to say yes but Daniel quickly shakes his head. "That's one I can't answer for you Kira." I nod; I didn't really think he could.  
  
"I set to work on translating the artifact and what I found made a lot of people nervous." He pauses and looks at me. He knows that I was dying to ask what it was, but he also knows I won't. It's obvious that this is the big National Security thing that he can't talk about.  
  
"Jack was actually called in to lead a team to find out more information about the people who made the artifact."  
  
"This is where Egypt comes in, right? Where you met Sha're?"  
  
"Umm- sort of." Daniel says uncomfortably. "All I can tell you Kira is that we traveled a very far distance and met some people we had never met before."  
  
"Wow. That must have been really cool!" There I go sounding like a little kid again.   
  
Daniel chuckles. "It was pretty cool." He paused in memory. "I think even Jack in all his bad-ass military posturing thought it was cool as well."  
  
"Jack's not a military bad-ass!"  
  
"He was then Kira." Daniel says softly. "The Jack O'Neill you know now, isn't the same one I met back in 1995."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"That's Jack's story to tell Kira." Daniel says gently. Oh. Ok.  
  
"But you liked each other, right?" I ask.  
  
Daniel shakes his head. "Jack pretty much had me pegged as a geeky scientist, which I technically was, and didn't want anything to do with me. He couldn't stand having a "civilian" on his team."  
  
"So what changed?" I asked. "I mean, obviously you and Jack are good friends now."  
  
"Oh, you know how it goes- I save his life, he saves mine. Things like that."  
  
"Wow." I'm just about to ask another question when his phone rings.  
  
"Sorry Kira, but I need to answer this." He stands up and walks with his cell phone towards a corner. He isn't necessarily trying to hide his conversation from me, just trying to be polite and not disrupt others in a public place. I bet if it wasn't 13 degrees outside, he'd be taking his conversation out there.  
  
"Hello?" He answers as he holds the phone up to his ear. "Hi Sam," he says before pausing to listen. "Yeah, I'm just on my way in- you still there?" Longer pause. "Sam," he admonishes gently. "You need to go home and rest." Daniel shakes his head. "No. Resting on base is not the same thing…" Daniel rolls his eyes. "No, I haven't been talking with Janet. I mean, of course I've been talking with Janet, but not about you." I see Daniel flinch slightly as he says that and bet he *has* been talking to Dr. Janet about Sam.  
  
"We're just worried about you Sam." Daniel continues. "It's been three weeks and you haven't.." Sam must have interrupted him because Daniel's sentence is completely cut off.  
"Yes, I know you're the only one who…" Again, Daniel is unable to finish what he has to say.  
  
"Sam, we're going to get him home." Daniel says finally. Suddenly it clicks; they're talking about Jack. Sam continues to talk for a bit and Daniel exhales softly and nods. "Yeah, I can do that for you Sam, but wouldn't you rather have Janet.." Sam says only a few words before Daniel nods again. "That's right I had forgotten. When is she supposed to return?"  
Sam doesn't say much more before Daniel agrees. "Ok. I'll swing by your place before heading in. Can I bring you anything else? Coffee? Chocolate covered espresso beans?" He smiles as he listens to Sam's answer. "Well of course I know those are my own favorites." He looks over at me and winks.   
  
"Seriously Sam, I'll pick you up one of those thick corned beef sandwiches you like from Hank's Deli." Sam obviously isn't so crazy about that idea. "I don't care if you're not hungry Sam, you need to eat. And I bet hank's corned beef is a little more appetizing then Lt. Rodriguez' canned bean casserole." Daniel looks at his watch. "I should be there within the hour." Pause. "Bye Sam." He turns his phone off and turns back to me.  
  
"Sorry Kira, question number 3 will have to wait until next time. I need to get going. Sam asked me to pick up a few things from her house before heading back to base."  
  
"On the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving?" I ask a bit surprised that he would even think of returning to work.  
  
"Afraid so." Daniel says apologetically. "If Janet returns home on time, I'll insist on taking Sam to her place for Thanksgiving with Cassie. But if Janet is delayed… well I'll just stay and keep Sam company." He gathers his coat and returns his empty coffee cup to the busing area.  
  
"Great Americano Stefan!" Daniel shouts over the din of the espresso machine as he shoves a couple dollars into the tip jar. Stefan smiles and nods his head in thanks. Daniel puts on his coat and has his hand on the front door when I realize what I want to ask him for my third question.  
  
"Daniel!" I call out. He stops and turns around. "My third question- it's a quick one."  
  
"Go ahead." Daniel says a little cautiously. I know he's thinking that whatever question I ask will either be another "national security" question or else something long and complicated.  
  
"Will I ever find out what it is you actually do?"  
  
"You know what I do Kira, I'm an archaeologist and translator."  
  
"Daniel." I admonish. "Translators do not routinely get beaten up or drugged or.." I resist adding 'kidnapped by aliens' although I want too.  
  
Daniel holds up a hand to stop me. "I see your point."  
  
"Well?" I ask again putting my hands on my hips. "Will I?"  
  
"You know what Kira?" Daniel answers seriously as he opens the door. "You just might."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Hee hee! You like? Please le me know as I'm always afraid my Barista stories will one day fall flat and everyone will go running away in fright. Or something like that. Writers are a very insecure lot! Next week I plan on writing a new "Behind The Scenes" vignette (Sam!) but will post a new Barista by the 15th; it'll be another light and fluffy one.  
  
* Thanksgiving is the third Thursday in November. It's one of only 8 or so universal American Holidays. That's right kids, we in the states only get *eight* paid holidays a year. Needless to say, I'm jealous as heck at the rest of the world for getting more time off then me.   
** A set of ancient caves near Amman, Jordan 


	27. Graduation Day

Barista 27- Graduation Day  
Spoilers: Slight reference to 100 Days  
  
Ever have one of those days where you find yourself wallowing in self pity and have no   
desire what so ever to feel better? The kind of day where you are certain there's some   
cosmic conspiracy to make you feel as miserable as possible? That's the kind of day I'm   
having today. I resist the urge to let out a big breathy sigh. With my luck, the moisture-  
laden sigh will saturate my scarf, freeze solid, and then slowly melt down my shirt causing   
me to catch pneumonia. I'll probably spend a week in intensive care.  
  
Like I said, I'm really into self pity at the moment.  
  
I quicken my pace even though I have no destination and try not to look at all the shops   
decorated for Christmas. Although I might not have enjoyed decorating Victor's in late   
November, I do have to admit it sure is pretty around here when there's snow on the   
ground and everything is lit up for the holidays. I find myself starting to feel better and   
instantly give myself a mental shove- I don't want to feel better. I don't want to think of   
gingerbread men and good will towards man. What I want is for someone to have figured   
out that as of today I'm officially a college graduate!  
  
Damn. I may not have a problem wallowing, but I do have a problem with crying and I can   
feel some serious tears trying to emerge. Happy thoughts Kira! Happy thoughts! Or at   
least moderately unsad thoughts? I feel a few stray tears slide down my cheeks and brush   
them away angrily.  
  
This really isn't working. I thought taking a walk might make me feel better, but instead it   
seems to be making me even more upset than I already am. It's Saturday afternoon and   
all I see around me are a lot of frantic, yet happy-looking Christmas shoppers. I can't   
decide if I'm thankful I'm not one of them or bummed that I never was. Growing up Jewish   
in a predominately Christian neighborhood wasn't really all that fun. Sure, it's great to   
bring a dreidel to class and tell the story of Chanukkah—but come one! You can only do   
that so often, right? Having a totally minor holiday tucked next to a major religious one   
completely sucks. It's bad enough that everyone just *assumes* Chanukkah is huge   
because it's the same time of year as Christmas, but once you throw in all the carols, candy   
and gift-giving—well, if you're me, this pretty much guarantees you turn into a Scrooge this   
time of year.   
  
A college educated scrooge.  
  
A freshly-turned 22 year old college educated scrooge.  
  
I find myself walking even faster and blink rapidly in an attempt to keep those stray tears   
from falling. With my luck, my eyelashes will freeze together and I won't be able to see. I'll   
run into a tree or something.   
  
Did I mention the self-pity?  
  
"Kira!" A voice yells behind me. I don't know who is calling my name but you know what?   
I don't really care. I'm in deep hurt mode at the moment and don't want to talk to anyone.   
Where are my powers of invisibility when I need them?   
  
"Kira!" The voice behind me says louder. I know I'm being stupid, but I still continue to   
walk briskly forward. I know it can't be Stefan as he's in St. Thomas of all places. Wanted   
to celebrate the Millennium surrounded by mai-tais in the Caribbean. Oh, hey. Yet another   
thing to feel bad about- it's the dawn of the 21st century and I don't have a boyfriend.   
Maybe I'll get lucky and everything will stop at the stroke of midnight on December 31,   
1999.   
  
Death by Y2K bug.   
  
"Kira?" The voice says quieter this time as a hand reaches out and gently forces me to   
stop. Slowly I'm turned around. I'm so busy feeling sorry for myself that it doesn't even   
dawn on me who had stopped me until I look up.  
  
Daniel.   
  
One slightly breathless concerned looking Daniel Jackson. He looks down at me with   
concern and something that looks a little like understanding. I can only give him a watery   
shadow of a smile. Daniel gives me a genuine one in return, and there isn't a darn thing I   
can do to keep my eyes from overflowing with tears.  
  
"It's ok, Kira." Daniel says as he pulls me into towards him. For several long second Daniel   
hugs me tightly as I hiccup into his chest and try to get my emotions under control. I wish   
I were a Vulcan.  
  
"Kira," Daniel whispers into my hat-covered head, "happy graduation."  
  
This time I don't even try to hide the sobs as I cry into his wool coat. The only person to   
remember my graduation is my coffee guy! I may consider Daniel a good friend, but it isn't   
like we go clubbing together or anything. He will forever be my coffee guy and it seems   
only my coffee guy remembered that today was the last day of my undergraduate life.  
  
"Let's get you inside." Daniel murmurs leading me across the street towards a café. "It is   
freezing out here and I think your eyelashes might be sticking together." I let out a sound   
somewhere between a sob and a laugh, and desperately wish I had some Kleenex in my   
pocket.   
  
Apparently, besides speaking a gazillion languages, Daniel is also a mind-reader. He hands   
me a clean handkerchief as we step inside the café. We are led to a corner table near a   
window and the waitress hands us some menus as Daniel orders a hot chocolate for me and   
a coffee for himself.  
  
"Hope you like hot chocolate." Daniel says smiling at me warmly. I can only nod as   
I blow my nose loudly and take off my hat and coat. The waitress quickly returns with our   
drinks and I sigh contentedly as I sip the warm beverage. I've stopped crying and although   
I'm certain my eyes are red and puffy and my nose is bigger than Rudolph's, I seem to have   
gotten my emotions back under control.  
  
"Everything always seems a little better with chocolate." Daniel says cupping both hands   
around his coffee.  
  
"You're drinking coffee." I say pointing out the obvious.  
  
"I'm not the one in desperate need of cheering up." Daniel says lightly. Before I can reply,   
the waitress returns. I order some homemade vegetable soup and bread, while Daniel goes   
for the clam chowder.  
  
We sit in companionable silence for several seconds before it dawns on me what has just   
happened. "Daniel?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"How did you know I just graduated?" Before he can reply I ask another question. "How   
did you know where I'd be? How come you didn't ask why I was upset? How.."   
  
Daniel holds up a hand and gives me another small smile. "Now I know what Jack must feel   
like when we're off.." He pauses for just the slightest of seconds before continuing. "Off on   
a mission and I ask a lot of questions."  
  
"I always have questions." I reply truthfully.  
  
"Me too Kira." Daniel says with a small smile.  
  
"Speaking of Jack, have you found him yet?" Daniel's eyes dim with regret and I wish I   
hadn't asked the question. "No, not yet." He answers sadly. "But Sam is really close to   
finding something that is certain to help him." An astrophysicist is going to find something   
to help her captured commanding officer? Is it just me, or does that seem kinda weird?  
  
I am trying to put my thoughts into diplomatic words when Daniel abruptly changes the   
subject. "Do you have it yet?" He asks.  
  
"Have what?"  
  
"Your diploma." He explains looking at me carefully for a reaction.  
  
Oh. That. "No." I reply shaking my head in the negative. "They'll mail it to me in a couple   
of weeks after they are certain I don't have any overdue books or anything."  
  
"Ah, I'd forgotten about that." Daniel nods knowingly.  
  
"Daniel?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How'd you know?" I don't have to clarify what I mean- he knows.  
  
Daniel shrugs. "It really was just dumb luck finding you." He says taking another drink of   
his coffee. Daniel wrinkles his nose slightly and mutters, "Not as good as yours." I smile   
appreciatively and make a motion with my hand telling him to continue.  
  
"I was at the university library last week and heard some students talking about how   
Monday was the last day of the quarter. I remember you telling me that you would   
graduate at the end of this quarter and I just put two and two together."  
  
"But how did you know?" I asked again.  
  
"How did I know you would be wandering the frigid streets of Colorado Springs feeling alone   
and a little sorry for yourself?" I do a lousy job at trying to hide my blush and look down at   
the checkered tablecloth instead.  
  
"Yeah," I say finally. "That."  
  
Daniel shrugs and takes one of my still cold hands in his own. Although the cocoa has done   
a pretty good job of warming me up on the inside, I'm still pretty cold on the outside. "I   
knew Kira, because I've been there."  
  
Naturally, the waitress chose that exact moment to arrive. She set down our soups quietly   
and said she'd be back with more coffee in a moment. I asked for a cup of hot water.  
  
"Just hot water?" Daniel asks raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm cold." I reply unnecessarily. Besides, I like drinking hot water. At the very least, it   
gives me something warm to cup my hands around. We each take a couple spoonfuls of   
our soup before Daniel continues.  
  
"I graduated from New York University in December 1982." Daniel says quietly. 1982? But   
that was nearly 20 years ago! Daniel must have been..  
  
"I was 17 Kira." He says giving me a little chuckle. I guess he could see my brain trying to   
do the math.  
  
"You graduated from college when you were just 17?!" I asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yeah." Daniel says nodding. "I kind of did high school and college all at the same time.   
My foster parents did attend my high school graduation in June earlier that summer, but   
they didn't really remember my college one."  
  
"How could they not know?" I ask completely wrapped up in Daniel's story and oblivious to   
my own. Where were Daniel's real parents?  
  
"It really wasn't their fault." Daniel says in their defense. "I become their foster kid when I   
was 15 and all I ever did was go to school. When I wasn't at high school, I could be found   
in a lab somewhere at NYU. They were aware that I planned on continuing my education   
and weren't too concerned about the details."  
  
"Sounds lonely." I say quietly.  
  
Daniel shrugs. "It was. Sometimes. But mostly I remember loving the learning. Everyday   
I learned something knew and I was determined to make a difference in the world. To   
make my parents proud of me." Daniel fidgets uncomfortably. "I never told you about my   
parents did I?" He asks softly. I shake my head.  
  
"They were killed in an accident when I was 8." Daniel says quietly. I feel my eyes fill with   
tears again.   
  
"Daniel, I am so sorry!"   
  
"Yeah," Daniel says nearly inaudibly. "Me too."  
  
"Anyway," Daniel continues trying to get back to the original point. "I finished up the last   
of my credits right before Christmas and there wasn't anyone I could really talk to about it.   
I came home to leftovers and my foster parents building a crib for their new baby."  
  
"It was just a stupid undergraduate degree." I say trying not to let it get to me. Daniel's   
story was slowly becoming way too familiar. "It doesn't really mean much if you're just   
going to go on and get another degree."  
  
"Maybe." Daniel says nodding. "But it's your first degree Kira, and that'll always the one   
you'll remember most." I shrug noncommittally.  
  
"Where are your parents Kira? I bet they're very proud of you."  
  
I give a little shrug. "They're on a cruise in the Bahamas." I explain. "Back in September   
it looked like I wouldn't be graduating until March, so my parents bought tickets for a cruise   
over the holidays. Once they heard that I would be graduating earlier, they tried to change   
their tickets. I told them not to worry about it and go have their cruise. After all, it isn't   
like there's a graduation ceremony or anything—that'll be in June with everyone else. All I   
get today is a little piece of paper that says I have completed 180 credits."  
  
"And how do you feel about that?" Daniel asked sounding suspiciously like a shrink.  
  
"I didn't think I'd care so much Daniel.' I whisper. "I honestly thought this would just be   
the first of many degrees I might get and I honestly wouldn't care. I made certain that this   
whole degree-getting thing just wasn't a big deal. My parents.."  
  
"Your parents are very proud of you." Daniel says finishing my thought with a knowing nod.  
  
"Very." I say smiling. I'm an only child and my parents pretty much went nuts when they   
heard I was accepted to graduate school." It's a good memory and helps to ease me out of   
my dark mood.  
  
"What about your friends?" Daniel asks. Instantly the dark mood returns.  
  
"It's December 15th Daniel! Everyone is home with their families!" I reply a little sharply.   
Daniel's face falls a little and I mentally kick myself for being the fool. Not only does Daniel   
apparently have no parents. But now his wife is dead and his best friend is missing. Some   
Christmas he's having. God, I'm a horrible person aren't I?  
  
"He'll be home soon though, right?" I say trying to make the best of a really awkward   
situation.  
  
"Yes," Daniel says with conviction. "He will."  
  
We spend the next 30 minutes or so talking about school and birthdays. It was Daniel's   
fault for wishing me a happy birthday and asking me how I spent my glorious 22nd.  
  
"Well, it wasn't nearly as eventful as last years." I reply using every ounce of my being not   
to lick my lips.  
  
"I imagine not." Daniel replies chuckling. Daniel insists on paying for lunch and we get up   
to leave. As I am pulling on my coat, Daniel leans over and gives me a very chaste kiss on   
the side of my cheek.  
  
"Happy Graduation. Kira." He says giving me another hug. I wrap my scarf around my   
neck and we exit the café together.  
  
"Daniel?" I ask as we head off towards his car. Daniel had offered me a ride home and it   
was too darn cold to refuse the offer.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I liked the birthday kiss better." 


	28. Bullsht

Title: Barista 28-- Bullsh*t   
Season: Season 3   
Spoilers: Shades of Gray (318), slight Urgo reference  
Rating: PG 

Author's Notes: The long awaited Kira-take on Shades of Gray. Hope it doesn't disappoint! 

* * *

February is just not my favorite month. Come to think of it, January isn't a whole lot of fun either. All the winter holidays are over and outside of a Monday off for Martin Luthor King Jr. Day, there's nothing to look forward to until May! Except Spring Break. But then again, Spring Break is for students and teachers- coffee shop workers tend to be twice as busy around that time. Gee, lucky me. 

On the plus side, the world didn't end at the stroke of midnight on December 31, 1999. Not that anyone seriously thought it would, but it was questionable whether our computers would work the next day. Turned out to be complete hype. Oh sure, maybe if everyone was still running their old Apple II's there might have been an issue, but computer and software companies did everything they could to sell and upgrade just about everything out there. So January 1st, 2000 (man, that sounds weird) turned out to be just another day. 

Another day with a really, really bad headache, but that's a whole different story. At least I wasn't alone in my misery… 

I saw Daniel just twice last month, and both times he was looking pretty glum. I didn't need to ask how the search was going for Jack, it was written all over his face. He had dragged Sam in with him the last time and I was shocked at how..well, crappy she looked. We're talking bags the size of small moons under her eyes! Apparently Sam has the same propensity as Daniel to not eat when worried or busy; apparently she has been both. Even in bulky winter clothing, I could see she had lost several pounds. Now I understand why Daniel was so worried about her- Sam is not a woman who can afford to lose 10 or 15 pounds! I was still confused as to why it seemed (at least to Daniel and definitely to Sam herself) like Sam was the only person capable of finding Jack. I'm sure the Air Force has a crack team of Search and Rescue commandos or something like that. Still, I know I'm not getting the whole story here, so I'll just make sure my friends know that I'm here if they need a sympathetic ear..or large quantities of caffeine. 

I had just finished unlocking the front doors a few weeks ago, when Daniel came bursting in like a caricature of the Tasmanian devil himself. Instantly I guess that Jack must have been found. I had just finished unlocking the front doors a few weeks ago, when Daniel came bursting in like a caricature of the Tasmanian devil himself. Instantly I guessed that Jack must have been found. 

"He's back," Daniel said in a rush, with a very large smile. The smile was contagious, and I found myself grinning as well. "We brought him back yesterday. We didn't get much time with him before he was whisked away by the base's CO, General Hammond, for a briefing." 

"Well, that sucks." I said. "You finally get Jack home, and he has to go sit in a stuffy office and give a briefing?? How fair is that?" 

"Not very." Daniel said with a knowing shake of his head. "Jack did promise to have us all over for a BBQ tonight, so it will be wonderful to.." 

I never got to hear how wonderful it would be, as Daniel was interrupted by the shrill beeping of his cellphone. 

"You know, I really hate these things.." Daniel said as he pushed a button to answer the call. 

"I know I'm late.." Daniel started, before even hearing who it was. Late? It's 6:00 in the morning, how the heck can he be late? 

"Hi Jack!" Daniel said enthusiastically. "I'm afraid my amazing skills in punctuality have not improved in your absence…" He paused to listen to Jack's answer, and I could see his face noticeably deflate as Jack continued to talk. 

"Oh," Daniel said at last. Jack must have said something more, for then Daniel interrupted him. "No, no - I understand, Jack." He turned away from me and held up one of his hands in frustration. "Actually Jack, I don't understand. You just returned from three months living in a place you never wanted to be. Can't they give you a little time to yourself? I can cite plenty of examples of the importance of acclimation.." 

I didn't hear Jack's answer, but I betcha it was something along the lines of 'It's the military way'. 

"Well, the Air Force is wrong, Jack," Daniel said, becoming more and more agitated. "I know you're career military and all that, but can't General Hammond..?" Again he paused as Jack said something. 

"Fine," Daniel said, clearly not happy. "I'll tell Sam and T..Murray when I get in to work." His shoulders slumped in defeat as he listened to Jack's final words. 

"Jack, have you at least had a chance to talk to Sam?" Pause. 

"Well, you should." There was a lot of weight in that last sentence of Daniel's. "I'll see you in a few days, then." I know Jack must have said goodbye, but Daniel sure didn't. 

"Well, at least he's home" Daniel said softly accepting his espresso. 

* * *

I hadn't seen Daniel for two weeks since then and was kinda wondering how he and Jack were working out. Actually, I wasn't really certain Jack was back. After being gone for more than three months, I don't think I was going to believe he had returned until I saw him for myself. 

Tuesday afternoons in February are notoriously slow. Tourists usually visit places like Vail or Crested Butte in the winter. My regulars are all at work, and I'm just plain bored. 

Bored and cold. Victor seriously needs to buy us a new furnace. Or the building's landlords do- I dunno how all of that works. Just know its damn cold in here! 

I had just made myself my third hot cider of the day when the door opens and there in glorious Technicolor is one Colonel Jack O'Neill. 

"Jack!" I shout as a rush around the counter and give him a huge hug. It was complete spontaneity on my part and luckily Jack didn't seem to mind so much. 

"Hi Kira," he says giving me an affectionate hug in return. "Miss me much?" He asks looking down at me. 

"Just a little," I say trying not to go all girly on him and burst into tears. I can't help it; I hadn't seen Jack in nearly 4 months! 

"I missed you too." Jack says fondly. "There was no coffee at all where I was!" 

"Oh you poor man," I say releasing Jack from my death grip. "How did you survive?" 

"I had help" Jack says somewhat wistfully with a small shrug. I know I'm not going to get the whole story about where Jack was and what has happened these last several months; best to concentrate on what he *can* tell me. 

"Coffee?" I ask. 

"I'd love some" Jack says accompanying me to the counter. "And why don't I try one of those American-things Daniel always has." 

"Americanos?" 

"Yeah, that's the one." 

"Single, double or triple?" I ask. Jack mutters something about coffee sounding a lot like baseball and settles for a double tall. 

"So how are you Jack?" I ask as I hand him his drink and lead him over to the two easy chairs near the window. 

"Cold," Jack says instantly looking around the deserted shop. "Kira, have you guys heard of a thermostat?" I can't help but laugh. 

"Victor's working on it." I say running back and grabbing my own steaming cider to warm my hands. 

"That's good." Jack pauses somewhat awkwardly before perking up as he remembers something. "I heard through the grapevine that you graduated." 

"Yep," I say nodding. "Last December. You're now looking at a UC Springs Graduate student." 

"Well, congratulations!" Jack says proudly. "So, what are you studying now?" He interrupts himself to place a caveat on his question. "If you tell me archaeology Kira, I might just faint." I laugh. 

"Jack, I doubt you have ever fainted in your life." 

"Well maybe not so much fainted, as passed out…" 

"I figured as much." I say chuckling. 

"So..?" Jack asks again. "What are you studying?" 

"I'm currently just studying Ancient History, but am considering getting a double MA in History and Archival Science." 

"No archaeology?" Jack asks sounding relieved. 

"Well, I'm not going to get a degree in it, but.." 

"Here we go." Jack says leaning back and taking a sip of his coffee. 

"I'm heading to Egypt next month in order to work on a dig." 

"Of course you are" Jack says with a sigh. He pauses for a moment deep in thought. "Kira, have you ever met anyone name Urgo?" 

"Who?" I ask completely confused. Urgo? What kind of name is Urgo? 

"Sorry. Forget I asked." Jack says shaking his head. "Still, you do remind me of Daniel." 

"I'll take that as a compliment" I say proudly. 

"You should." Jack answers simply. 

"How is Daniel, Jack?" 

"Pissed at me." Now it's my turn to lean back in the chair. Daniel and Jack sure seem to have a complicated relationship; I have lost track of the number of times they have been worried about one another. Pissed at one another seems to come up fairly frequently as well. 

"What did you do?" I ask. 

"Not going to ask what Daniel did?" Jack counters. 

"You said Daniel is pissed at you, not that you are pissed at Daniel; this implies that you are the one who knowingly messed things up." 

"You sure you don't have a minor in psychology in those degrees of yours?" 

"Nope," I confirm. "But after three years of working customer service, I'm really good at reading people. 

"So is Daniel." Jack says quietly. "Unfortunately, I'm better at lying." Huh? What the heck is he talking about? 

"Jack?" I ask softly. 

"Right after I returned to home, I was asked by my commanding officer to go undercover on a mission." 

"That must be when you cancelled the BBQ." I supply. Jack looks at my oddly. 

"I'm not even going to ask how you know about that." I just shrug. 

"In order for the mission to work, I had to pretend to be something I wasn't." 

"That's what going undercover means, right?" 

"You _certain_ I can't talk you into applying to the Air Force Ccademy Kira?" Jack asks hopefully. I let out a laugh. 

"Positive Jack." 

"Can't blame a Colonel for trying." Jack murmurs before continuing his story. "I needed to infiltrate a group of really bad individuals Kira, and to protect my team, I needed to do it without their knowing about it." 

"So you went undercover without telling them." I summarized. 

"Exactly." Jack says nodding. "Thing is, there was a good chance the bad guys had Major Carter or Daniel bugged, so I had to put on an act pretending I didn't really like them." 

"But they knew it was an act, right?" I asked. "Your team knows you and had to know that it was all an act." 

"That's just it Kira." Jack says dejectedly. "They didn't." 

"Bullshit" I say. 

"Excuse me?" Jack says clearly surprised at my use of language. 

"You heard me the first time" I say suddenly feeling very much out of place swearing at a guy (albeit a very cute guy) old enough to be my dad. "There's no way they didn't know you were faking it." 

"Kira, don't take this the wrong way- but you don't know what the hell you're talking about here." 

"Give me your phone." I order. Order? I'm ordering a Colonel around? I'm so going to hell for this. Without a word, (but with a raise of an eyebrow) he gives me his phone. I deftly go to his address book and find Daniel's number. Please be home Daniel. Please be home. 

"Hello?" 

"Daniel?" I ask. 

"Speaking." Daniel confirms. "May I ask who is calling?" Man! The guy is polite even on the phone! 

"This is Kira, Daniel. I'm currently sitting here at Victors with Colonel O'Neill and I need you to come right over." 

"Is Jack all right?" Daniel asks in a concerned voice. 

"No. Not really." I say truthfully. "Can you come over Daniel?" I ask. 

"I'm on my way." 

I hang up and give Jack back his phone. 

"I can't believe you just did that Kira." Jack says sounding both amazed and a little surprised. 

"Believe it Jack." I say still running on adrenaline from my very ballsy move. I hear the tell-tale sound of the door opening and head back to the register to greet my new customer. "You'll stay until he arrives?" I ask fearful that he'll say no. 

"I'll stay." Jack says with a small nod. I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. 

"Thanks Jack." I say before turning to greet my new customer. 

* * *

Twenty minutes later one disheveled looking Daniel Jackson walks through the front door. He sees Jack sitting by himself over by the window and makes his way over. 

"Hi Jack." Daniel says shoving his hands into his pockets. 

"Hi Daniel." Jack replies motioning for Daniel to sit beside him. 

Daniel sits in the empty seat and for countless seconds they simply stare at each other in silence. 

"We need to talk Daniel." Jack begins. 

"You're right Jack, we do." Daniel replies with a nod. 

I smile to myself as Daniel skootches his chair closer and the two seem to have a very serious one-on-one discussion. Maybe I was wrong and Daniel didn't know. But you know what? As long as at the end of the day Jack and Daniel are friends again, I couldn't care less. 

* * *

**Notes: ** I had all sorts of ideas for a conclusion, but decided to wimp out and have Jack and Daniel sort it out for themselves without any nosy Baristas about. Let me know if my take on Shades worked! 

I'm envisioning just one more Barista before Season 3 Barista tales are done. I'm going to do everything in my power to write that story before I leave on my little excursion this summer, but I can't promise you it'll happen I'm afraid. I still need to write Teal'c's Behind The Scenes story and there's that whole work/school thing as well. Oh, and finalizing all the details for my vacation this summer. These things take time I'm afraid. If anyone has a spare robot or clone, I'd be more than happy to borrow it/him/her for the month! 

Completed April 25, 2004


	29. Airport Delay

Barista 29- Airport Delay  
Season 3  
Spoilers: Crystal Skull (321), Nemesis (322)  
Category: Drama, Hurt/Comfort  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Author's Notes: It has been ages since I have properly thanked everyone for providing me with such wonderful feedback and encouragement with my stories. Kira and her quirky tales would certainly have ended with Season 1, if it wasn't for all the wonderful support I get from you kids. Thank you from the bottom of my I-know-it's-bad-for-me-but-I-still-love-it diet coke can!  
  
Special thank you to Roxie, Susan, and Suz for their wonderful beta suggestions.

* * *

I tell myself that it is way too early to ask if we're there yet, but it is taking all of my self control to keep my mouth shut. I fiddle with the dials on the radio and after two sweeps of the choices available, turn the static off with disgust. At times like this, I really hate living in the mountains. Wonder if we're there yet…  
  
I sneak a glance at my driver and am not surprised at all that he's trying hard not to smile. Nice to know I can be so entertaining at such an early hour.   
  
"You're dying to ask, aren't you?" He says me with twinkling eyes. You know if he wasn't so darn cute and one of my favorite people, I just might give him a flippant answer.   
  
"Even if I were to say yes," I begin, deciding that I feel like giving a flippant answer anyhow. "It would be yes for something completely different and not for whatever it is you're thinking about." Even to my ears I sound like a complete spoiled brat. Maybe I should just ask if we're there yet and get it over with.  
  
"You won't miss your flight Kira," Daniel says giving me a reassuring smile.   
  
"I know Daniel," I answer grudgingly. "I'm always like this before a big trip. I'm sorry if I'm so snarky."  
  
"Snarky?" Daniel asks giving me a funny look. "I might know a couple of languages…"  
  
"Like 30?" I offer.  
  
"I might know a couple of languages," Daniel repeats, completely ignoring my outburst. "But I'm not familiar with the word snarky." Man, Daniel can sure be tenacious when he wants to. Betcha Jack _really_ likes that.  
  
"Snarky?" I repeat. "You have to know what snarky is." I mean, come on! Who on this planet doesn't know snarky? I bet they even have an equivalent to it in Russian!  
  
"Afraid not." Daniel replies shaking his head. "Now, when used in the context of your sentence, I am going to assume it means cranky and a little anxious, but I would definitely challenge you if you tried to place the word in a Scrabble game."  
  
Note to self: Never play Scrabble with Daniel.  
  
"You play Scrabble?" I ask conversationally. I actually love the game, but I bet Daniel is like Grand Master good. Although, come to think of it, do they have Grand Masters in Scrabble?  
  
"Sam and I enjoy playing" Daniel says with a chuckle. I use perfectly legal archaeology and anthropology words to frustrate her, and she uses perfectly legal physics and astronomy words to frustrate me!"  
  
"What about Jack?" I ask.  
  
"Jack likes to play words like snarky and insist they're real." Daniel says giving me a pointed look. I knew I liked Jack for a reason!  
  
"Remind me to play scrabble with Jack sometime." I laugh.  
  
"Not with me? Kira, I'm crushed," Daniel says, feigning offense.  
  
"I'm afraid I have an ego Dr. Jackson, and you'd crush it between your multi-doctored fingers if I played with you."   
  
Daniel starts to laugh and then grunts suddenly and clenches his teeth.  
  
"Daniel, you ok?" I ask. He of course couldn't tell me exactly what he had been up to for the past week or so, but he did let it slip that there was a bit of a radiation scare at work. He's not dying of radiation sickness, is he?!  
  
"I'm fine, Kira," Daniel replies not quite convincingly. "I shouldn't have drunk so much coffee on an empty stomach, that's all."   
  
Oh really? Since when? "I offered you a bagel..."   
  
"I know" Daniel replies shrugging slightly. "I just wasn't hungry Kira."  
  
"You sure you're all right Daniel?" I ask noticing for the first time that Daniel appears a little flushed.   
  
"Positive" Daniel says giving me a reassuring smile. "So tell me again about what you're going to be doing in Cairo." That's right! I'm on my way to the airport to catch a flight to Egypt! This is so cool!  
  
"I'm going to be studying Pre-Dynastic history at the American University in Cairo, and spend some time working on a dig in search of the lost libraries of Alexandria." Is it possible to make something sound cooler, just by saying it aloud?  
  
"I knew you couldn't stay away from archaeology!" Daniel says smugly.  
  
"Daniel," I reply patiently. "I'm going to be studying history and looking for clues as to the whereabouts of a 2500 year old library."  
  
"Like I said," Daniel replies, "archaeology"  
  
"Are we there yet?" I ask aloud as I look out the window.

* * *

We had driven in affable silence for five minutes or so when I notice Daniel wince again. His torso-area does a crazy dance thing and I swear he clenched every muscle in his body at once. Something is wrong.  
  
"Daniel?"   
  
"Kira, would you mind if we stopped at the next exit so I can get some antacids or something?" Daniel asks slowly exhaling from what must have been a very painful stomach cramp.  
  
"Antacid?"  
  
"Yeah," Daniel says putting on his blinker and taking the next exit. "I really shouldn't have eaten so much at Jack's BBQ last week." I don't fail to notice that Daniel didn't even pretend to wait until I answered him.   
  
"That was last week, Daniel!" Gas doesn't last a week, does it?  
  
"You obviously haven't had Jack's secret-family recipie ribs.." Suddenly both of his hands cradle his middle and Daniel cries out in pain.  
  
"Daniel!" I cry as I grab the wheel. There is no way this is a minor thing; Daniel needs a doctor. Thankfully, we had just finished the sharp turn that exits tend to have, and had been about to stop at a light when Daniel cried out. His hands are still wrapped around his middle and he looks like he's about to get sick.  
  
"We need to stop" Daniel says weakly as he takes control of the steering wheel again.  
  
"There's an AM/PM over here on our right." I say pointing towards the bright blue store. Without a word, Daniel drives the car into their parking lot and pulls into a stall in the far back. He has only just turned off the ignition when suddenly he fumbles with his seat belt and yanks open the door. I cringe as his body heaves once and then twice. I have actually never seen anyone get sick other than myself before and really hope I never see it again.  
  
"Daniel?" I ask softly as he wearily pulls himself back upright and releases a shaky breath.  
  
"I actually feel much better" Daniel says with a weak laugh. Without opening his eyes, he reaches out and pats my leg reassuringly. "Just give me a minute and I'll be ready to head back out."  
  
"I don't think so!" I say hotly. There is no way Daniel is going to drive me or himself anywhere. I am already reaching into the backseat for my purse; time to call in reinforcements.  
  
"Kira, I'm fine." Daniel says again. I have to admit, he does sound better. Still—it just isn't normal to have severe stomach cramps and throw up in AM/PM parking lots!  
  
"It really must have been something I ate." He says sounding ever so sincere. "If you can just run in and get me a little package of antacids that would be great." He gives me another reassuring smile and I nod ok.  
  
I grab my purse and head into the store. The moment I am out of Daniel's line of vision, I reach for my cell phone and dial information.  
  
Knowing exactly what and who to ask for this time, I quickly get patched through to Jack's office. I glance at my watch as I listen to the phone ring and cross my fingers and hope that Jack is an early bird.  
  
"O'Neill" Jack says answering his phone. He doesn't sound tired, or angry or really much of anything. Guess 6:45 in the morning is a normal time for him.  
  
"Jack!"   
  
"Kira?" Jack asks after a moment, "Aren't you supposed to be in Egypt or something?" Despite the circumstance, I can't help but get a little happy-glow; Jack remembered that I'm heading to Egypt!   
  
"Daniel's sick, Jack" I say cutting to the chase.  
  
"Sick?" I can just picture him taking his feet off his desk and sitting up straighter, "What do you mean sick?"  
  
"Stomach pains, nausea, and I think he might have a fever as well."  
  
"Dammit, Frasier said he'd be fine…" Jack mutters to himself.  
  
"Not the radiation!" I stutter.  
  
"Dammit, Daniel!" Jack swears as I hear him pushing some additional phone buttons. "Kira, if Daniel doesn't learn to shut the hell up, I'm going to have to bring you in for a debriefing." As much as I am curious as to where Jack and Daniel work, I suddenly don't think I'd like to see it via an interrogation.  
  
Oh God! Is radiation sickness contagious?  
  
"Jack..?" I ask feeling more than a little scared.  
  
"Hold on a sec, Kira," Jack orders as I hear him bark at someone for Doctor Frasier. "Have her call me the **moment** she gets in," I hear him say.  
  
"No, it isn't contagious" Jack says when he returns to my part of the conversation. Wow. Guess colonels are really good at reading minds and anticipating questions. A phone rings in the background and in seconds I'm on a three-way conference call with Dr. Frasier and Jack.  
  
"Colonel?" Dr. Frasier asks, "What's going on?"  
  
"Daniel's sick," Jack replies succinctly. "Kira?"  
  
"Kira?" Dr. Frasier repeats sounding pretty confused.  
  
"Hi," I say anxiously, wondering if I really shouldn't give up the charade of buying antacids and go check on Daniel. "Daniel was supposed to drive me to the airport this morning, but has been having really bad stomach pains. When we stopped he got sick. He says he just needs some antacids or something similar, but I think he's really sick."  
  
"Doc?"   
  
"It isn't what you think Colonel" Dr. Frasier answers instantly. "I promise you, it isn't that." She pauses as if considering. "Kira, did you notice if Daniel ate anything this morning?"   
  
I shake my head even though they can't see me. "No, ma'am," I reply. "In fact, Daniel said he wasn't hungry when I offered to buy him a bagel with his coffee."  
  
"Describe his stomach pains for me."  
  
"Real sudden and sharp. At first he just gritted his teeth, but this last time he actually cried out and doubled over clenching his stomach. After we pulled over, he got sick and now says he actually feels better." My turn to pause. "I don't think he's better Dr. Frasier. He looks a little flushed, but I don't think he has a major fever or anything."  
  
"Colonel, how did Daniel seem last night? Did he eat anything out of the ordinary?"  
  
"A bunch of us took Dr. Frasier's daughter Cassie to see a movie last night, Kira." Jack says explaining to me. "Actually Doc," Jack says sounding a little worried, "Daniel didn't eat more than a few bites of bread. He made some lame joke about still being full from my BBQ last weekend."  
  
"He said the same thing to me," I add.  
  
"It isn't food poisoning," Dr. Frasier diagnoses. "But other than that, I won't know until I see him. It could be the flu, but the symptoms don't seem to be in the right order…"  
  
"There's an order?" Both Jack and I repeat at the same time.  
  
"Where are you now, Kira?" Dr. Frasier asks. I tell her the exit number and add, "He parked in the back of the lot at the AM/PM right off the exit."  
  
"And how's Daniel doing now?" Dr. Frasier asks.  
  
"I'm currently in the store and Daniel's in the car. If I go outside and check on him, he'll know that I've called you."  
  
"Do it." Jack orders. Orders. And get this - I don't hesitate for a moment.  
  
"Daniel?" I ask softly as I open the door. He has unfastened his seat belt and tilted back his seat a bit. His face is anything but relaxed-looking and his hands are resting protectively against his stomach, a bit to the right actually…  
  
"Jack!" I whisper as I quickly step out of the car. "Has Daniel ever had his appendix out?"  
  
"Appendix?" Jack repeats.  
  
"No" Dr. Frasier adds. "Daniel has not had his appendix out."  
  
"A friend of mine from school had hers removed last Christmas. The way Daniel seems to be favoring the right side of his stomach got me to thinking about it."  
  
"Appendix?!" Jack repeats again.  
  
"Kira, put Daniel on the phone," Dr. Frasier asks.  
  
I open the door back up and call out to Daniel.  
  
"Hi, Kira," Daniel says opening his eyes and giving me a weak smile. "Did you get the antacids?"  
  
"No," I reply feeling guilty. If it turns out that Daniel **does **just have heart burn or gas, I'm going to feel really bad about all of this. "I have Dr. Frasier on the phone" I say offering him my cell phone.  
  
"Janet?" He asks confused. I nod and give him the phone.  
  
"Janet?" He asks into the receiver. "Why are you calling?"  
  
I don't hear Dr. Frasier's answer, but listen as Daniel says yeses and nos and does a lot of frowning. He isn't too happy to hear either Dr. Fraiser's or Jack's voices. I don't hear the specific question, but I do hear Daniel say, "I'd really rather not."   
  
He pauses to listen to something, and sighs as he hands me the phone. "Kira, Janet wants to talk to you." Clearly he isn't thrilled with what she's going to tell me.  
  
"Kira, listen carefully," Janet begins. "I need for you to _gently_ press on the right side of Daniel's stomach directly over his waist band. His appendix is actually located below that, but I don't think either one of you would be comfortable with going lower."  
  
"You have that right," I murmur blushing.   
  
"You're looking for any inflammation or swelling. If he does have appendicitis, it may be obvious."  
  
"Ok." I say. "I have to set the phone down for a minute."  
  
I set the phone down and look at Daniel apologetically. "You ready?" I ask. Daniel nods and lifts up his shirt slightly. Ah, man! He has ripples! The first guy I'm going to touch with actual abdominal muscles and it is to see if he's sick. Life is so unfair.  
  
"It's ok, Kira." Daniel says as he sees me hesitate. I might like the view, but I definitely don't enjoy the thought of hurting him. Very, very gently I place the fingertips of my right hand over his waist band. Daniel lets out a small sound and closes his eyes. I move my hand a little to the right and very, very gently splay my fingertips across his stomach and press down. Pressing down doesn't seem to elicit any strong emotions from Daniel and I am very, very thankful that it appears like I had this appendicitis diagnosis completely wrong. Then I remove my hand.   
  
Daniel screams.  
  
I jump back as tears threaten to spill out. Oh my God, I just made Daniel scream. With shaky hands, I grab the phone as Daniel positions his body away from me and becomes even more protective of his middle.  
  
"Daniel.." I say into the phone.  
  
"We heard, Kira," Jack replies softly. "Janet is on the phone with 911 now. She thinks Daniel definitely has appendicitis and needs to have it removed ASAP. There was nothing more you could have done."  
  
"Will they be here soon?" I ask taking a shuttering breath. I made Daniel scream. Just thinking about it causes me to cry.  
  
"They'll be there soon" Jack confirms.  
  
"Will you stay with me until they get here?" I ask as I continue to stare at Daniel and his trembling body.  
  
"I'll need to switch to a cell phone so I can drive up to the hospital, but I'll be here Kira."  
  
"He's in a lot of pain," I say breaking down on the telephone. I can't help it! Daniel might be dying right next to me and I can't do anything to help him. "I'm sorry." I sob.   
  
"Kira, it's ok," Jack says gently. "He'll be ok."   
  
"Promise?" I ask knowing full well that Jack O'Neill has no control whatsoever over Daniel's apparent appendicitis.  
  
"Promise."

* * *

"So how's our boy doing?" Jack asks as he finds me in the waiting room drinking a weak cup of tea. He's dressed in a funny-looking blue jump suit and has an anxious look on his face.  
  
"They took him into surgery about 20 minutes ago," I reply. "They weren't really supposed to tell me anything, but seeing as how we already suspected his appendix, they confirmed it for me. They said judging from the inflammation and size; Daniel's appendix was just ready to burst." Tears threaten to spill out again.  
  
"He'll be fine, Kira." Jack says leaning down and giving me a big hug. "He has been through way too much to let a simple thing like appendicitis get him down." I nod into Jack's chest and have no doubt that he's right and Daniel will be fine.  
  
"Hey," Daniel says semi-drugged as he blinks owlishly in my direction. No one had given him his glasses back. "You're still here."  
  
I nod and bite my lip hard to keep from crying. The surgery went fine and Daniel's wounded appendix had been removed without any complication. Still, this had happened while he was driving **me** to the airport.  
  
"Not your fault you know," Daniel says eyeing the cup of ice chips on the table next to him. I put several chips on a spoon and carefully feed them to Daniel. "God, you can't believe how good these things taste after surgery," Daniel says as he closes his eyes and sighs contentedly.   
  
I'm a little disturbed that he's had enough surgeries to make a comment like that.  
  
Daniel opens his eyes and squints around the room. "Where's Jack?" He asks.   
  
"He just went for some coffee," I reply. Daniel nods and closes his eyes again. Suddenly he snaps them back open. "You're still here!"   
  
I smile and nod. "I'm catching a flight tonight to New York and will arrive in Cairo tomorrow."  
  
"I'm sorry Kira." Daniel says sounding embarrassed.  
  
"Daniel!" I admonish. "You nearly had your appendix blow up _while_ driving **me** to the airport! If anyone should be sorry, it's me."   
  
"Can we just agree that it's no one's fault?" Jack asks from the doorway. "Honestly, what is it about kids these days and guilt?"  
  
"Hey." Daniel says squinting up at Jack.  
  
"Hey." Jack says in return. Oooo- big talkers these two.  
  
"Kira Meyers?" I turn around and see a military guy in the doorway.  
  
"Can I help you?" I ask. I didn't park illegally or something did I?  
  
"I'm here to give you a ride to the airport ma'am." Instantly I shoot a look at Jack.  
  
"Hey! It's the least I can do in return for you keeping an eye on Daniel yet again."  
  
"I thought we established that this wasn't my fault," Daniel says sounding a little hurt.  
  
"It isn't your fault Daniel," Jack confirms. "It honestly seldom is your fault, but that doesn't mean I'm not displeased when these things happen to you when someone is around to watch your back.  
  
I smile.   
  
"You'll take good care of Daniel while I'm gone, right?" I ask Jack. "Make sure he eats, takes his vitamins and doesn't exceed the Daniel recommended dosage of 300 mg of caffeine a day?"  
  
"Will do!" Jack says cheekily. "Come here." I walk over and Jack gives me a big hug. He releases me and then grabs me again and gives me another one. "That's from Daniel," he whispers.  
  
"Take good care of yourself Kira." Daniel says in a slightly slurred voice as his eyelids begin to droop.  
  
"You too, Daniel," I say. "I expect at least one email reply a month. I know you guys travel and such—but let me know every now and then that you're alive and kicking ok?" Daniel nods and then loses his battle to keep his eyes open and falls into a light sleep.  
  
"Ma'am?" The military guy says from the doorway. Oops. I had forgotten all about him.  
  
"Coming."  
  
"Bye, Jack."  
  
"Bye, Kira," Jack says giving me a nod as he takes a seat next to Daniel's bed. I steal another look at Daniel and then head off with my personal chaperone. It is nice having Jack and Daniel as friends.

* * *

**Author's notes:** And so we come to an end of the Chapter 3 Barista stories. Season 4 will continue sometime in late July. Sorry kids, but I'm spending my summer bicycling across the United States, and I'm afraid I will be leaving my laptop behind. Look on the bright side…I bet I'll think up all sorts of new Stargate adventures on the road. ;

AM/PM explained-- This is a convenience store that is similar to a Seven Eleven.


	30. Letters From Egypt

**Title:** Barista 30--Letters From Egypt  
**Season:** Season 4 (Finally!)  
**Spoilers:** Nemesis (322), Small Victories (401), The Other Side (402)  
**Category** Gen  
**Rating:** PG

**Author's Notes**: The difficulty in writing a long-running series is trying to keep everything fresh ( I do try, really, I do!). Every now and then I'll write from a different character's point of view (do I hear any requests for Stephan?) Or go outside the coffee shop for some comic relief (Walk in the Park, Breakfast at IHOPs, ) For this story, I decided to write a series of letters between Kira in Cairo and Daniel in Colorado. Season 3 _technically_ ended on March 10th (Nemesis air date) and Season 4 _technically _began on June 30th (Small Victories), so the letters between Kira and Daniel will be taking place between those dates. Give or take a few weeks. I'm playing it a little loose with The Other Side's airdate as I want Daniel and Kira to talk about it (just a little) before Kira comes home in time for Upgrades. Oh yeah. How can I _not _write a little something about Upgrades?

The historical bits about the Cairo, Egypt and the Library of Alexandria are based on fact.

Definitions:

**Baksheesh**- basically a tip; often used to grease the wheels so to speak

**Feluka**- Egyptian sailing barge/boat

* * *

March 15, 2000 

Dear Daniel,

I know it is a bit old fashioned of me to be writing you a letter, but seeing as how you're an Archaeologist and I'm studying ancient History, I'd say we're pretty much old-fashioned type of people! I know email is quicker, but there's just something to be said about writing a friend a handwritten letter. Besides... I don't actually _have_ your email address... (Oops!) I know _where_ you work Daniel, and I do have both Jack's work and cell phone number, but I don't actually have your email address. Isn't that kind of funny?

So how are you doing? I was told that you would be transferred back to Cheyenne Mountain the next day—how did that go? I still feel a little guilty for hopping a plane to Egypt while you were stuck in a hospital bed. Outside of birth and getting my tonsils out when I was three, I have never been in a hospital. Except to visit friends of course. ; But wouldn't it be better to have stayed in Denver? At least there, you had a room with a view- not to mention fresh air! Still, I can imagine it was nice to be back on familiar ground with your own doctor again. Daniel, you do realize how completely bizarre it is that that you have your own doctor, right? You know, one who can look at you for three seconds and figure out that your electrolytes are low and you really need to get more sleep. (I know you're smiling at this, because you have told me about what a great doctor and friend Janet Fraiser is. Sure, I have gone to the same doctor for three years now, but I see **her** only once a year, and I doubt she would remember my name if we passed on the street. So trusting that everything is fine and you are now up and around, I am going to move on to...

Cairo! Oh Daniel, I can so understand how you could fall in love with this country. I mean, not only is it warm and exotic looking, but the smells and languages and history... I think I'm in love! I went to an open market yesterday and bought 100 grams of cinnamon in a cool newspaper cone-like "bag". I love how the spices are wrapped up here! And saffron! Daniel, do you know how much saffron costs at home? Here's it's only a fraction of the price. If I'm not careful, I'm going to have to learn how to cook, if only to find a use for all these gorgeous spices!

Tomorrow we're headed to Giza and I can't tell you how excited I am to see the ancient pyramids in person. I can't believe they were built nearly 5,000 years ago! Just think how advanced we were back then and how far we must have fallen. I can't help but wonder what went wrong? So, Dr. Jackson, which theory do you proscribe to? Were the pyramids built using ramps, or are you more of the block and lever sort of guy? I am currently reading a book about the pyramids and amazed at how many different theories there are as to how it was built!

Next week a bunch of us are taking a long weekend and heading south towards Aswan; I can't believe the last real rain they received was over 5 years ago! Whoa. I'm definitely bringing my camelpak with me. I don't care if I look like an American tourist, rather a _hydrated _American tourist than a sick one. I'm looking forward to taking a train this time, but have been told that it's actually quite cheap to hire a cab to take you around Egypt a la tour guide. Maybe next time!

I'm afraid I'm as long-winded with the pen as I am in person. Take care of yourself Daniel and give Jack a big hug from me.

-- Kira

* * *

March 28, 2000 

Hi Kira!

Glad to hear you are enjoying Cairo and Egyptian countryside. Did you know I was less than a year old the first time I visited the pyramids at Giza? I don't remember it of course, but I do have a photo of my mother and I sitting on a camel in front of the Cheop's Pyramid. Did I tell you that my parents were archaeologists? The first five years of my life were spent mostly in Egypt and Tunsia. Now as to my opinion of how the pyramids were built...well, let's just say that I'm part of the fringe group of archaeologists that believes there might be more to the pyramids than just some really large rocks.

You're going to love your visit to Aswan and I can't wait to hear all about it. Make sure to check out Elephantine Island. Yes, I know that's mostly an archaeological attraction, but trust me, it's worth it. It's a bit of a ways away, but you would really enjoy a side trip to Nag Hammadi. It might take a bit of _baksheesh, _but try and find a local to take you to the place the codices were found. It may not be the ancient library of Alexandria, but there is no doubt Nag Hammadi was also a library of some importance. Also, before you leave the country, you must take a feluka ride up the Nile. Just make sure you and the driver have agreed upon everything (food, water, accommodations) up front first. Believe me, you don't want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with a boat operator demanding more money (been there, done that, and don't have the t-shirt, because the damn feluka driver took it from me!)

I am doing much better and have been released from Dr. Frasier's Hall Of Pain. No, no- Janet is a wonderful doctor and I really do feel pretty much back to normal. Which reminds me.. did I thank you properly yet? Kira, I seriously don't know what I would do without your quick thinking. Jack tells me that if you weren't around, he would seriously consider making me wear one of those kids I.D emergency bracelets every time I left the base. But because I have the good sense to have my "moments" in your presence, he says he'll just trust you to let him know when help is needed. Which reminds me, when did Jack give you his cell phone number?

Life continues pretty much the same over here in Colorado. We did have a bit of a situation last week, but in the end Jack, Sam and Murray prevailed. It was hard from me not to be with them, and I am pretty certain Janet had airmen following me around to make sure I ate and slept. She denied it of course, but I knew something up when Sgt. Siler invited me to lunch one day. Siler is our electrical specialist and he tends to talk Sam's language more than my own. But the man has a good heart and almost rivals me in being accident-prone!

Jack is _still _pestering me to see my scar and I swear he is looking forward to our next field assignment, if only for the chance to see my scar up close. I haven't a clue what you might think of that last sentence, but just to clarify- Usually when Jack, Sam, Murray and I go on a field assignment, I share a tent with Jack. Next week however, I think I'll ask Sam if she's interested in switching bunk mates for the evening. Just to annoy Jack of course! Besides, I am curious if the rumor of Sam's snoring is true...

I still occasionally go to Victor's for coffee, but I have to tell you that it just isn't the same. Stephan does make a mean mocha, but his blatant flirting with me is kind of hard to take first thing in the morning. Has he met Sam before? I was thinking of asking Sam to pretend to be my girlfriend sometime—maybe then he'd leave me alone.

Just a thought.

Take care of yourself Kira and enjoy the marvels of Egypt! I look forward to pictures and stories when you return.

Best,

Daniel

P.S. I told Jack that you had requested that I give him a big hug, and he just looked at me funny and said, "I don't think so Daniel." He went on to tell me that he'll just collect that hug from you when you return.

* * *

April 16, 2000 

Hi Daniel!

Thank you so much for your chatty letter! Everyone was envious of me when I was given your letter at lunchtime. I think we (folks my age) have forgotten how much fun it is to get a letter! I betcha at least a few of my classmates headed straight to their rooms after lunch to write their family and friends.

I am now **really** curious as to your theory on the pyramids and may try and get you drunk sometime and find out! I have seen your drinking tolerance up close Dr. Jackson, and I do believe I would be able to drink you under the table! Just call me Marion, Indy....

Both Nag Hammadi and Aswan were amazing—I didn't get your letter until after my trip, but luckily a friend talked me into going to Nag Hammadi with her and I don't regret it at all (despite the long bus ride).

Least you think I do nothing but tour the countryside, I should tell you a little about my classes. I am taking conversational Arabic (of course) and have even developed a slight Egyptian accent. My Israeli friends make fun of me as their Arabic has a complete different accent. Heck, Standard Arabic is rather different than Egyptian Arabic. Ah, but when in Rome...

Now learning how to read Arabic is much more difficult! True, it doesn't matter which region you live in, all Arabic is "spelled" the same—but man! It is not easy. Arahmaic is LOADS easier. But then again, there are only a few hundred verbs in Arahmaic and several thousand in modern Arabic.

I am also taking an Ancient History course, a modern History course and the requisite archaeological course (grin). I adore all my classes, but am surprised by the level of homework I have every evening. How am I supposed to see the country, if I have to be typing up a paper on the Gods and Mythology of Ancient Egypt! Geesh.

I do have a roommate over here, although she is seldom home. Her name is Helen and she is from England. The first week of school she met an Egyptian boy at a club and they have been inseparable ever since. His name is Mosi and he's super cute! Sorry, I know you don't care if he's cute or not—that just came out. Mosi just invited Helen to meet his parents next weekend and both are looking forward to it. Actually, I take that back. Helen is looking forward to it. Mosi? Well, he's worried about what his parents will think of Helen. Oh, he wants to introduce her to them, it's just that he's never had a Western girlfriend before.

Dang! It's 11 o'clock already. I still have a translation to do, so I had best say goodnight. Take care of yourself Daniel and write when you can!

-- Kira

* * *

May 8, 2000 

Dear Kira,

Reading your letters makes me nostalgic for the sands of Egypt. Or at least an Egypt-like country. I have asked General Hammond if it might be possible for me to visit my father-in-law sometime in the next few months and he's going to see what he can do to get me the time off.

So how did the meeting go between Mosi (which means 'born first' by the way) and Helen? My first meeting with Kasuf (who later became my father-in-law) was rather interesting and a bit awkward. He too had strong religious beliefs and became alarmed when he discovered that I didn't share in those beliefs. Hopefully Mosi's parents are as open-minded as Kasuf and his people. If all else fails, I find that chocolate tends to be a universal icebreaker.

Wow, you are taking a full load, aren't you? While it's true that there are many more people who speak Standard Arabic over Egyptian Arabic, you'll find that more of the ancient languages tend to sound more like Egyptian Arabic than standard. And considering you're getting your degree in **Ancient History**, this could be helpful! You'll have to tell me about your archaeology class! Who's teaching it? What are you studying? Will you go on any digs? Can I come? smile

It has been a very boring May for me so far as I developed a _minor_ infection on a trip abroad and Janet won't allow me out of her sight until it clears up. The good news is that it gives me a lot of time to catch up on my cataloging, but I miss being out in the field. Plus, there's the fact that Jack keeps popping by every other hour to ask me a question or show me his latest yo-yo trick. Sam gave him a Game Boy for Christmas last year and he keeps challenging me to play Final Fantasy with him. Still, I suppose it is better than Yugioh Duel Monsters IV...

Sam is doing well and is actually playing the rebel and growing her hair out! Well, not long or anything, but Jack kinda ribbed her about it the other night at dinner (something about growing her hair out to pick up guys. In Jack's defense [although I know there is very little], we HAD been drinking). Sam just looked at him with that enigmatic look of hers and asked him if her hair length offended him. I believe she said something like, "Sir, do you believe the length of my hair affects my ability to do my job?" And then they shared one of those freaky military moments of theirs before Jack turned away and mumbled something about "No pony tails Major". Murray was highly amused by the conversation, and later I had to draw him a picture of a little girl with pony tails; he was a little confused.

Continue to have wonderful adventures and I look forward to your next Egyptian installment!

Best,

Daniel

* * *

May 20, 2000 

Dear Daniel,

Now, don't laugh, but I dropped one of my current history classes to enroll in a 4-week crash course in underwater archaeology. I know what you're going to say, and this does NOT mean I am leaning towards archaeology! All it means is that I have nearly an insatiable desire to know more about the library of Alexandria. As I'm sure you know, the "experts" are still arguing as to who is to blame for Alexandria's demise. But one thing we know for sure, is that sometime in the middle ages, a series of earthquakes and floods caused most of the entire palace area of the North East quarter of the city to submerge. I want to see it with my own two eyes, and the only way I can is if I take this course. I don't doubt there is much to learn archaeologically speaking from exploring the submerged ruins, but my interest in it is purely historical. Really!

I hope your _minor_ infection has cleared up and you are able to go on field assignments with the rest of your team. Just as long as you be careful! While I still get confused when you come to the shop sporting a tan in the middle of winter, I would rather be befuddled, then see you with your arm in a sling or a black eye. So try and steer clear of trouble, ok?

Yesterday I took the plunge and visited a Shisha café. While it is true that I don't smoke in the states, I thought I'd try the local thing and see if maybe water pipe smoking tastes/feels better than cigarette smoking; oh how wrong I was! That stuff is just plain nasty! The old men in the café laughed loudly as I felt like I was coughing up my internal organs. Sure, the bubbling hookah pipes look cool, and I (for a brief moment) felt very exotic sitting there in my white linen skirt with an ancient smoking pipe at my side. I could almost pretend like I was in Ancient Egypt, except for the fact that I am a woman and I doubt the ancients allowed their women to smoke with the men out in their tents. No wonder Egyptian women lived longer than men...

I am sorry to say that the meeting between Helen and Mosi's parents didn't go at all well. I thought only Neo-Nazis and Fundamentalists (pick a religion—they're all a little nuts) were intolerant! Oh Daniel, Mosi's parents were downright rude to Helen. They called her "unclean" (not knowing she understood some Egyptian) and threatened to disown Mosi if he continued seeing her. Mosi assured Helen he still wanted to see her, but their relationship is totally strained and I don't see how it will last. How can people be so close-minded? I know, I know—this is their land and culture and not my own. But still! There is no damn place for bigotry in my world!

Sorry to get on my soap box there. It feels better to write it down and get it out though.

Send more chocolate!

Love, Kira

(friend 'love' Daniel- nothing more!)

* * *

June 10, 2000 

Dear Kira,

Just quick note as I am heading out of town for a few days and want to get this in the mail before I go. I am so sorry to hear about Helen and Mosi. I hope you don't mind, but I read your letter aloud to Jack last night. We had a little bit of a cultural misunderstanding here a few days ago, and you put into words something that both Jack and I can agree on. Jack was a bit of an ass and for a while there (and he would readily admit to this), and at the time I began to wonder if maybe I shouldn't look for a different commanding officer. Not that Jack is actually MY commanding officer. Well.. I guess he is- but I'm not really military. Well, I am WORKING for the military.. Oh- you know what I mean, don't you? Bottom line? Jack and I had a major falling out and I just didn't know if it could be repaired. **I** could see how ...wrong everything was at this place we went to- but.. but Jack couldn't. Words were exchanged and I thought.. Well, I thought our friendship was over Kira.

Now don't you panic, because if there is one thing I'll say about Jack O'Neill—when he's wrong, he's not afraid to admit it. Actually, I think he's better at admitting fault than I am. Uber education or something I'm sure.

You coming home soon? Stefan just broke up with his boyfriend and is starting to flirt again.

Best,

Daniel

* * *

June 20, 2000 

Dear Daniel,

I bet I'll make it home before this letter, but it's a thousand and six degrees out right now and I really don't want to leave this air-conditioned library. I am sad to be leaving Egypt, but am looking forward to heading home. I miss the Rockies and my friends. Travelling has been wonderful, but there's just something to be said about coming home, you know? I even miss Victor and his anal coffee-running ways! I am scheduled to open on Friday June 30th, so IF you get this letter before then, feel free to stop by! I'll be the jet-lagged tan girl standing behind the counter. Uggh- jet lag. I bet you don't miss THAT working for the Air Force.

Ah the military. I don't know exactly what happened between you and Jack, Daniel, but I am glad you fixed it. Because no matter how much of an ass Jack can be (and I'm sure you have your moments as well), the two of you are really two sides of a coin, and I can't imagine either of your lives without the other. I know I haven't known either one of you all that long, but the friendship you two share is pretty intense and I would hate to see anything break that apart.

Whoa. Way too serious. Sorry!

You know Daniel, one of these days you're going to have to tell me what you really do for them. Who knows, maybe I can talk you into giving me a tour of your office! I think next month is "Take your Barista to work day"... : Jack keeps hinting that I should join the Air Force (as if THAT will ever happen), but I wonder, if I DID show an interest, would he take me to his office?

This is Kira signing off. I'll see you soon Daniel.

Kira

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Because both Kira (and I) are geeky—here's some links if you'd like to read more about Egypt or the Library of Alexandira go to my website. Apparently I can't cut and paste links into this new upload wizard-y thingy. Bizarre. Website- home (dot) earthlink (dot) net (slash) dietcokechic (slash) fanfic (dot) html. Ha! Strip THAT.


	31. Out of the Ordinary

**Title:** Barista 31--Out of the Ordinary  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** Upgrades (403)  
**Category** Gen, Humor  
**Rating:** PG 

**Author's Notes:** I don't think anyone is going to be too surprised at this one. I've been dying to write an 'Upgrades' Barista since I first imagined the series nearly two years ago. Hope you don't find the familiar subject matter/location too redundant! Special thanks to purpleshrub and Sandy for pointing out some rather blatant historical and geographical inconsistancies. I'd like to blame it on the diet coke. Well, that and rushing. ; 

* * *

Hello, Colorado! I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to be home. Stefan picked me up from the airport and immediately began to fill me in on all the coffee shop gossip. 

"Victor is dating a younger woman," Stefan says scandalously, as he maneuvers his 1992 Honda Accord onto I-25. 

"How young?" I ask, absorbing all the sights of the Denver suburbs as we head south towards Colorado Springs. 

"If she's a day over twenty-five, I'll date a girl!" Stefan declares flamboyantly. I can't help but chuckle at both his choice of words and delivery style. 

"Victor isn't _that_ old, Stefan." 

"Are you _kidding_, Kree?" Stefan asks me aghast. "He's at least 40!" 

"Right," I reply dryly, "absolutely ancient." 

"So," I say casually, tearing my eyes away from the window. "Did anyone interesting come into the shop while I was gone?" Stefan shoots me a knowing look. 

"Well, I could tell you all about Matilda and her latest invisible friend," Stefan pauses as I smile. Mattie is a homeless woman who frequents Victors at least once a week. She will come inside when we're slow, and wipe down all our tables for us. In return, we fill up her thermos with hot coffee and give her all the day old Danishes she can stuff into her pockets. I'd love to be able to find Mattie a home off the streets, but she seems to like it there. Mattie often says that the shelters never seem to have room for her and her _friend_. Mattie's friend changes usually twice a year. 

"**But**," Stefan says as he signals and moves over into the far left lane, "You want to know about Colonel Sumptuous and Professor Yummy." 

"God, you're horrible!" I say laughing. Professor Yummy? 

"Be nice," Stefan warns, "or I won't tell you all I know." 

"All right, spill." I say turning in my seat to give Stefan my full attention. 

"Well, I didn't see the professor for several weeks after you left.." 

"He was in the hospital," I explain, interrupting. I had forgotten that Stefan didn't know about that. 

"He wasn't getting a sex change or anything, was he?" 

"Would you **stop** it?!" I say giving him a hard slap on his thigh. 

"Honey, you need to hit harder than that to get me going.." 

"Stefan!" I know he's doing this on purpose, but it still tends to get to me. Or amuse me—I frequently alternate between the two. 

"Right," Stefan say continuing his tale. "I didn't see Daniel for several weeks, but that cute colonel stopped by a couple of times." Stefan gives me a semi-scandalous look. "Once, he even had a gorgeous blonde lady on his arm." Gorgeous blonde lady? Jack, dating? Well, I'll be! I think about that for a full minute before it finally hits me - he must be talking about Sam. 

Hey! Wait just a gosh-darn second… 

_On his arm_?! Daniel would have filled me in if there was some major romance thing going on between his friends. Wouldn't he have? 

"She wasn't really hanging on his arm, was she?" I ask with a mixture of fear and apprehension; Jack and Sam? That was just too weird. 

"Well," Stefan says searching for his words, "she wasn't so much as hanging on his arm, as standing right next to him." Ha! I knew it! 

"And truth be told," Stefan continued, "she wasn't so much as standing right next to him, as saying something like, 'Sir, I'll take a large coffee' as she headed across the street to the Harley shop." "Stefan, one of these days I'm going to hurt you," I say shaking my head. 

"Yeah, but I think I'm safe until after you get yourself your own car!"

* * *

After Stefan dropped me off at my apt., I unpacked and did several loads of laundry. I called Victor and told him I was home, and got my work schedule for the following week. I cleaned my room, had a much needed short nap and found myself wide-awake and bored out of my mind at 6:30 pm. Ah, the joys of jet lag. 

Most of my friends were either home with relatives or spending the summer gallivanting across Europe or Asia. Although I did take an extra two weeks to see a bit of Israel and Jordan, I didn't really have the time (read: money) to do any serious touring this year. Besides, Victor was counting on me to keep the store in one piece when **he** went on vacation at the end of the month. 

What to do, what to do… 

I knew that Stefan was home, but as entertaining as the boy-man is, I wasn't really in a Stefan mood. I was in the mood for sitting down at a nice café someplace and getting to know Colorado Springs again. I considered that cute little place on Union Blvd by the university, but wrinkled my nose up and hastily scratched it off my mental list; I had forgotten about Tom, the bicycle messenger. I _really_ didn't want to run into him again. 

In the end, I changed my clothes, put on a little lipstick, and caught a cab to O'Malleys. 

Don't ask me why I keep going back to this place. I know I'm usually the youngest person there by 10 years or so—but I only have fond memories of the place, and who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and run into Daniel or Jack. 

I am sitting at the end of the bar, when I hear the waitress delivering her order. 

"**Twelve** steaks for table three, Joe," the waitress says, as she hands over her ticket to the line chef. "Don't look at me like that," she says petulantly, "I got the order right." 

"_Twelve_ steaks for _three_ people?" The cook says in disbelief. "Is it even possible to eat that much meat?" 

"And get this," the waitress says leaning over the counter, "the chick wants a diet coke!" 

"You know, I've heard about this crazy new diet that is heavy on meat, but this is ridiculous!" The cook says as he walks away from the counter. 

I'll say! I take a moment and carefully scan the dining area in search of the trio who had placed that order. I was looking for a big-boned family, or hungry-looking Europeans—I couldn't find anyone who fit the bill. 

There are eight tables filled in the dining room below. Three had 30-something couples, obviously on dates; two were booths full of boisterous college guys obviously gathering sustenance for a night of binge drinking; two held only one person each, and the eighth table… 

Holy shit! 

If my eyes are not deceiving me, sitting at that last table, is none other than Jack, Daniel and Sam! Jack's leather-clad back was facing me, but I would recognize that silver hair anywhere. Sam seemed to have grown her hair out a bit, but I am positive, the woman sitting next to Jack was the Major Sam. She is dressed in a dark red turtleneck and black leather jacket and is talking animatedly to Daniel who has on a spiffy beige sweater with a zipper. I can't see Daniel all that clearly, but it sure looks to me like he has been working out this summer… I am so shocked at actually seeing them in the bar, (I mean, come one! What are the odds?) that I have forgotten all about that ungodly large dinner order. The arrival of three plates with three steaks instantly answers the question of who was really into red meat this evening. 

Maybe, they had just gotten back from hiking through the Amazon for several days without food or water? Or maybe, they had a bet going on who could eat the most steaks? Whatever the reason is, it is taking all my self control not to stare at them while they eat their dinner. 

I forced myself to turn back around and order another drink. 

Shortly after it arrives (about 30 seconds later), a rather nice-looking guy begins talking with me. Being a rather weak, hormone driven young woman myself, I quickly became enamored with the soft southern drawl of my new drinking companion (he's from Georgian!) and forget all about my favorite carnivores for nearly an hour. Much to my surprise/delight, Bill (the Georgian) doesn't even drink! I mean, he is drinking, but only soda water with his order of cheese nachos. Bill is an intern at Central C.S. Hospital and is actually on call this evening, hence the abstinence from alcohol. He only moved to Colorado Springs the week before, and was in the midst of checking out the local eateries whenever he got a spare moment. 

I'm awfully glad, he chose O'Malleys. 

I am just about to be so bold as offer my phone number (work, of course), when Bill's beeper goes off. Giving me an apologetic smile, he places $20 on the bar (far more than his nachos and soda water are worth) and hastily writes down his phone number on the back of a napkin. He hopes I will give his a call when I get a chance. 

Oh, yeah. I'll definitely get the chance, Bill. Smiling to myself, I order a second cosmopolitan- and that's when I hear a very familiar voice. 

"I am not going to arm wrestle you, Daniel." Jack says with humor. 

"Why not?" Daniel replies huffily. "Afraid, I'll beat you?" Daniel is totally challenging Jack – what in the blazes has gotten into him? I mean, come on, Daniel might be younger, but Jack has that total, 'I can kick your ass without working up a sweat' air about him. Anyone can see that. 

"Not now you can't," Daniel replies smugly. 

"Oh, please," Jack begins. I swear I can feel him rolling his eyes. 

"Guys," Sam warns quietly placing her hand on Daniel's arm. 

"What?!" They both reply simultaneously. I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing aloud. Man, I love eavesdropping on friends when they're drunk! Well maybe not drunk so much as tipsy.. 

"We're off base." Oh riiiggghhht. The old, 'hush, hush, national security' thing again. Oh lighten up, Sam. 

"Ah, give it a rest, Sam," Daniel says, pulling his arm away from Sam, and tugging on his sweater sleeve. "Come on Jack, arm wrestle me," Daniel cajoles. "I promise not to hurt you." 

Jack makes a 'ttthhhpt' sound, "As if **that'll** happen." 

"I dunno, Jack—I bet these things put us on pretty even ground." 

"I've been using mine longer," Jack replies in explanation. 

"So?" Daniel shoots back. "Maybe that'll mean it'll wear off faster." 

"**Or**," Jack continues, "It means I am stronger." 

What the hell are they talking about? Viagra? 

"You're just scared I'll win," Daniel says. 

"Am not." 

"Are too." 

"Am not." 

"Guys!" Sam says loudly interrupting the bickering pair. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?" Sam pauses, and shakes her head slowly as if trying to clear away the cob webs. "Maybe Janet is right." She says in a quiet voice as she plays with the sleeve on her own jacket. 

"Probably," Jack says in agreement, taking another drink of his beer. "She usually is about these type of things." 

"I'm.." Daniel begins. 

"And if you tell her I just said that, I'll have you setting up camp for the next month!" Jack warns. 

Daniel opens his mouth again. 

"In the dark, Daniel! Without a flashlight! And I'll make you sleep with Teelk after he has chili!" 

"You already make me sleep with Teelk on chili nights, Jack!" 

I once remarked (only to myself, but I found it amusing), that Jack and Daniel should have their own show. I completely stand by that statement. Before I can figure out who, or what a Teelk is, Daniel announces that he's thirsty and needs to pee. Seriously, Daniel just flat-out announced that he needs to pee! 

"I think the waitress is still ticked at us over our order Danny," Jack says jovially as he finishes his shot of whiskey. "You might have to go get the drinks yourself." 

"We should probably think about heading back to base, actually." Sam says almost regretfully. 

"Oh, I guess so," Daniel agrees standing up. "Do we have the time for one last round?" 

"Shots, only," Jack replies. "Then, we had best be heading back." Daniel nods his head in agreement and makes for the bathrooms. 

"Don't forget snacks!" Jack calls out. I giggle quietly to myself and wonder how much they've been drinking. 

It doesn't take long before Jack starts to fidget in his chair and pick at something inside his sleeve. Itchy cufflinks? 

"Carter, you wouldn't happen to have a bobby pin or clothes hanger with you would ya?" 

"Sir, have you ever seen me with bobby pins?" Sam says incredulously. 

"Wire hanger?" He asks hopefully. 

"No." Sam says as if she were talking to a small child. "I left all my hangers underneath all the clothes in my closet. Sir, what's this all about?" 

"It itches." I can see Jack squirm as he fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. 

"Colonel!" Sam hisses, as she slaps at Jack's arm. "We're in public!" Riiiggghhht. Because arm scratching is so not allowed in public. Not. Geesh Sam- it's only his forearm. 

"I don't care Sam, the damn thing itches." Excuse me? Did Jack just call Sam, Sam? 

"Sir!" 

"What?" Again with the petulant voice. I could almost be listening to the Jack and Daniel show, except for Sam's presence of course. All three of them sure are acting odd—very unmilitary-ish if you know what I mean. 

"Janet is right Sir," Sam says nodding her head in thought. "These things are affecting out judgment." 

"Yeah, I s'pose you're right." Jack finishes off his beer and eyes the bowl of peanuts with interest. "Do you think anyone would mind if I emptied that bowl into my pockets?" Jack asked sounding surprisingly serious. 

"Yes sir," Sam replied laughing. "I think they'd notice. We'll stop at a convenience store on our way back to the base." 

"Snacks! You just can't go wrong with nonstop snacks." Jack says taking another large handful of nuts and throwing them in his mouth. How can he possibly have any room left after that meal of his?! 

"Let's grab Danny and head on back." Jack says standing up and putting on his jacket. He picks up his nearly empty pint to take one last gulp. 

"Your place or mine?" Sam replies without missing a beat. I swear to God, I nearly fall off my chair. Apparently Jack has a similar reaction. 

"Carter?!" Jack exclaims spewing his beer across the floor. 

"Gotcha." Sam says giving him a look not unlike the one Helen must have given Paris when she realized her husband (and the Greeks) were coming after her. Whoa! Jack just stares at her slack-jawed while Sam shucks off her leather jacket and picks up a pool cue. 

"Whatever happened to finding Daniel and heading home?" Jack asks after gaining a bit of his composure. 

"Oh we have time for a quick game." Sam says nodding at one of the guys eyeing her in the corner. He picks up his pool stick and heads towards her. Sam frowns slightly as if remembering something. 

"Don't we have time for a quick game, sir?" Sam asks putting the emphasis on the 'sir'. Jack just shakes his head and orders another round of beers. 

"Knock yourself out Major." He says clearly amused at seeing his normally calm and collected officer so….cheeky. 

Daniel returns with three shots and discovers three more pints of beer waiting for him. 

"I take it we're staying?" Daniel asks sitting back down. 

"Carter wanted to play a little." Jack said gesturing at Sam. 

I watch as Sam plays first one and then a second pool game in quick succession. She is damn good! I know I'm not the only patron in the bar following her rather skillful pool cue. Of course, I'm really watching the game; most of the guys in the bar are watching Sam's ass. 

I completely lose track of Daniel and Jack, although I know Sam does occasionally come back to their table to sip her beer. The shots are long since consumed and Jack and Daniel move away from their table in order to watch the pool game better. 

By this time the bar is getting pretty crowded, and it's easy for me to move closer to the trio without drawing too much attention. Although my eyes are on Sam, I can still hear Jack and Daniel bickering behind me. 

"You're just chicken," Daniel taunts. 

"Daniel," Jack explains not nearly as patiently this time, "I might be feeling really good right now, but even **I** realize that arm wrestling you in public might not be a really bright idea. 

Daniel replies by making chicken noises. 

"Besides maybe seriously injuring you," Jack explains, "we really might just break a table." He pauses for a moment to let Daniel absorb the comment. 

"General Hammond would really be irritated with us if we did that." This time I couldn't cover my mouth in time and let out a strangled laugh. 

"Not if we ran out of here really fast." 

"Daniel.." 

"**Really** fast Jack." 

Before I can make sense of that last statement, I notice that one of the macho guys has challenged Sam to a "friendly" game of pool. Don't get me wrong- the guy in the tan shirt is cute (I'm guessing he's from the Air Force Academy), but even I can see that he's a total player. 

"Sure, I'll play you honey," the cute guy says picking up a pool cue. I'm now glad I had moved away from the bar as both Jack and Daniel are walking that way. 

I proceed to watch as Sam completely annihilates the competition. It is obvious to me that she is just toying with the guy, and although she does occasionally miss a ball, she always has her next shot set up; Sam is seriously good at pool! 

With only two solid balls left, Sam tells her opponent that she will now sink both of those balls and the eight ball in one shot. 

"No frickin' way, lady," the guy says. 

"Afraid, I'll win?" She asks. 

"Not even a little," he replies. 

"Want to put a little money where your mouth is?" Sam asks. 

"Carter.." Jack says from behind the table. 

"What?" Sam replies sharply. "We're off duty, **sir**." 

"Well, technically Carter.." 

"Ah, come on colonel," Sam cajoles. "Let me beat the doolie." 

"Doolie?" I mumble to myself. 

"Slang for first year cadet," a voice replies next to me. It seems I'm not the only one watching their game. I quietly thank the person next to me and continue to watch the pool game play out. 

"It's your game, Major," Jack says holding up his hands in defeat, "but after beating this nice young cadet, we really need to get back." 

"Deal," Sam says as she leans over the table and takes a look at her shot. 

"$40 says you'll miss," the "doolie" guy says. 

"You're on," Sam replies, smiling as she watches the cute marine kid place two twenties on the table. Sam takes a small breath, leans over the table, and sinks all three balls in one shot. Wow. 

"How the hell did you do that?" Cute cadet guy asks. 

"Want to go double or nothing?" Sam replies pocketing the money and walking towards Daniel who is sitting at the bar. 

"I think I'll cut my losses," He replies. 

"Smart move," Daniel says smiling as he stands up. 

"What are you laughing at, you geek?" Not-nearly-as-cute-marine-guy says angrily. Uh oh. I feel it coming before Daniel has even taken one step forward 

"Geek?" Daniel repeats as he slowly turns around. 

"Geek?" Jack mouths back. 

Daniel turns completely around and looks straight at the marine. "Excuse me?" he asks almost politely. 

"Let it go," Jack urges from the background. 

"No, not this time," Daniel says sounding rather confident. 

"Yeah, what are you going to do?" Belligerent-cadet-guy says from the bar. Sam looks at him almost with pity. Two rather large bodyguard-type guys stand up next to Jack, as two more guys position themselves next to Daniel. 

"Well," Jack says looking from one guy to another, "this is a cliché." Jack says sighing as he looks at Daniel, who looks back at Jack and cocks his head slightly to one side. Sam gives Daniel an unreadable look as Jack sighs once again as says, "Well, ok." With that, Jack proceeds to toss one of the muscle men across the room. Seriously! And he wasn't the only one! 

I must have had more to drink then I thought, because I swear I saw Jack and Daniel tossing 200 pound guys around like they were a sack of potatoes! Sam even got involved when the cute cadet said something to her that resulted in Sam's knocking the guy behind the bar! 

Not even five minutes later it was over, but man-oh-man, was there damage at O'Malleys! Jack, Daniel and Sam were "asked" to go with the owner to a back room as the rest of us were left wondering if we had really seen what we had seen. Everyone was talking about what we had just witnessed, and already they had made out my friends to have been on crack or speed or something. What else could explain their obviously superior strength? 

What else indeed? 

30 minutes later, the military police arrive and take Sam, Jack and Daniel away. Normal cops have been called in as well, and several of us are interviewed as to what we had seen. I made sure to tell the cop who had interviewed me that the other guys had started it. 

Well, they had. 

Sort of. 

I pay my tab, and after making sure I still had Bill, the Georgian Doctor's phone number in my pocket, ask the bartender to call me a cab home. In two days, I start work, and I am already trying to think of ways of bringing up this bar brawl in casual conversation. 

As I'm getting into the cab, I think of the perfect line, 

"Hi Daniel, beat up any bullies lately?"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I may not update as often as I like, but they're still fun to read, right? Just to tease y'all a little more, in the next Barista Kira is going to find out about the Stargate program. Well... sort of. You'll see.... VBG 

Completed September 19, 2004


	32. Epiphany

**Title:** Barista 32--Epiphany  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Category** Humor  
**Rating:** PG-13 (Lanuage) 

**Author's Notes:** I've had quite a few emails from folks thanking me for not making Kira "Mary Sue-ish". Now prior to writing this series, I hadn't a clue what a Mary Sue was, and still reme mb er sheepishly having to email someone back and asking for an explanation. Kira might be an intelligent young woman, but she does have her faults. Keep that in mind now - **Kira has faults. **

The idea for this story hit me while I was considering what Season 4 episodes to write about this year. I was mulling over ideas with a friend when the plot epiphany hit me like a brick to the head. I think it was all she could do to sit there quietly and listen as I _gushed_ out **T**he **P**erfect **B**arista **S**tory. Naturally I wanted to write it immediately, but the timing wasn't quite right (Kira had just gotten on a plane to Egypt , and the story just wouldn't work that well over there.). Ah, but now she's home, we just witnessed a rather humorous take on Upgrades, and I'm _ready_ for Kira to get loopy. And more than a little curious. G

For Donia, who was there when my personal epiphany hit.

* * *

**Night **

"Miss, we're here."

Buzzing, I hear buzzing.

"Miss?"

No buzzing; voices.

"Miss, you need to wake up now."

No voices, just a single, gentle voice.

"**Wake up!" **The gentle voice isn't so gentle now.

"I'm up, I'm up!" I yell sluggishly. Ah hell, whom am I kidding? I'm not sluggish, I'm drunk. I sit up way too fast and instantly regret it as the world spins garishly about. Damn whats-his-name and that last shot of jagermeister!

"That'll be $16.70," the cab driver says. Shit! Sixteen bucks? Where the hell was I, anyhow? Ah screw it- doesn't matter anyhow. I give the driver $20 and tell him to keep the change. He thanks me and then waits patiently as I struggle with the back door. Who knew these things could be so tricky?

"Would you like some help?" He asks trying hard not to sound condescending. At least I think he's trying.

Not really very hard though.

"I'm fine," I reply. Not certain if he actually heard the enunciated "eye" sound or not, but I swear I really did say it. I manage to make it out of the taxi without breaking a bone and the cab gleefully (or so it seems to me) speeds off into the night.

I stand there in front of my house and eye the thirteen front steps with disdain. Thirteen steps. Suddenly I burst into laughter, as I imagine Alfred Hitchcock doing a remake of that classic 1935 movie starring myself as Annabella Smith.

Oh wait, that was **39** Steps. Oops. Thank God, I don't have to climb_ 39_ steps!

Giggling, I stagger to the steps and carefully begin the Herculean cli mb towards the top. "Put one foot in front of the other…" I sing off-key as I maneuver up the stairs awkwardly. "And soon you'll be walking out the do-o-or.." Not really sure why I'm singing old TV Christmas Special songs, but me and Kris Kringle seem to have something in common at the moment.

Who knew walking could be some hard? I wish my roommates were home to help.

Suddenly, one of the stairs trips me, and I miss the uppermost step completely and go careening down the stairs arms and legs aki mb o. Miraculously, I land on my ass and not my head.

I'm really glad my roommates aren't home to help.

Leaning on the handrail far more than is probably best, I manage to pull myself up to the top of the stairs, and stagger towards the front door. I lean against the door and close my eyes as I fervently ask the world to _please_ stop spinning so much. It's bad enough that gravity is against me, I don't think I can handle earth's gyrations as well.

I manage to open the front door and lurch towards the kitchen for some water. I suck down at least a liter of water and ransack the refrigerator for a snack. After consuming a half a turkey sandwich and a bowl full of garlic mashed potatoes, I feel a bit better.

I head into my bedroom and flop face down on my bed with a loud groan. I pound the pillow a few times for good measure before rolling over onto my back.

"MEN SUCK!" I scream at my ceiling. The date as they say did not go well. Bill, the cute young doctor turned out to be a _forensic_ doctor. Now, this isn't really so bad. After all, haven't I chosen to study ancient history and cultures, a field that is essentially the observation of the dead? Well, an observation of historic events and customs making up long-dead cultures. Ah, but dear Bill really took it a step further.

First he got me drunk.

Then he got me drunker.

Then he took me to a morgue for the purpose of making out an autopsy table.

Now call me a prude, but that is just wrong! I know the bodies in his morgue are more than likely empty shells that once housed a human soul, but that doesn't mean we can't still show them respect. I know if I were dead, I'd be rather put-out to listen to human folks necking when I'm… well… dead.

Amazing how philosophical I can get when I'm inebriated, isn't it? And isn't it funny that I can think the word inebriated, but I don't have a chance in hell of saying the word aloud.

Funny.

Have I mentioned that men suck? Well, not all men. The gay ones are all right. And of course there's my dad and my uncle, plus a few of the cousins seem pretty ok as well. And I can't forget all the cool male professors I've had….

Professors! _That's_ my problem! I have _got_ to date me a professor. Not one of my own of course, but I think there are plenty of cool, intellectually stimulating (not to mention cute) professor-type guys out there..

Hey, wait a minute!

Daniel's a professor! _And _Daniel's cool.

And cute...

And single….

"Kira you are **drunk**," I say aloud as I contemplate me and Daniel as a couple. Oh, he's cute all right. And don't you think I have never er…_imagined_ us doing something more than just playing backgammon, but me and Daniel as an actual viable couple? Not gonna happen. Besides, I don't think Jack would approve.

Hey, Jack's cute…

And old enough to be your father! Kira, would you _stop_ it? Jack would kill you if he heard you thinking that way. Hmmm. That really didn't make sense, did it? Jack and Daniel…wonder how those two met anyhow?

Suddenly I roll over and sit straight up as a truly wonderful idea hits me. Unfortunately a truly strong wave of nausea hits me as well and I barely have time to make it to the bathroom before my ever-so-lovely dinner and that liter of water make a return appearance.

After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I pour myself another glass of water and _slowly _drink about half of it. I stu mb le over to my computer and turn it on.

"Daniel Jackson, this is your life!" I giggle as I log onto the university's network and access the online databases. When I first met Daniel all those years ago (three years is a long time ya know), I reme mb er googling Daniel in an attempt to figure out how many languages he knows. I wasn't really surprised nothing concrete turned up, but I did manage to find an old CV of his floating around. It was hanging out in the bowls of an old listserve and I was astounded to read that Daniel was _fluent _in 14 languages by the time he was 19! He also belonged to _loads _of professional organizations; Egypt Exploration Society (EES), Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities (SSEA), Society for Historical Archaeology (SHA), Register of Professional Archaeologists, American Schools of Oriental Research.. I could find a couple dozen Daniel references prior to 1995, but nothing afterwards; it was almost as if Daniel had fallen off the face of the Earth!

The few mainstream articles I did find, only talked about this tragic wunderkind who was wowing the archaeological community with his amazing linguistic and archaeological acumen. I read a reader's digest version of the horrible death of his parents and knew he had received a couple of PhD's before he was 25, but found nothing more after Time magazine ran a little blurb on him in 1994. At that time, Daniel was the shining star of the archaeological community and there were literally dozens of universities who were vying for the young professor. Daniel had been quoted as saying, "I'll go anywhere where I can continue to explore the secrets of our past". Good sound bite, Daniel! The picture that accompanied the article showed an impossibly young-looking Daniel looking self-conscious, surrounded by dozens of research books and artifacts.

I tried dozens of different word combinations, but never did find out where Daniel went to teach, or what happened afterwards. The information just wasn't available on the Internet. At least not on Google.

The University libraries however, have purchased oodles and oodles of subscriptions to online research databases; specifically, scholarly databases. The _ERIC_ database is one of the earliest repositories of educational and social science research. If ERIC doesn't have anything noteworthy, I'll do another shot of Jagger.

My stomach churns uncomfortably at that thought, and I assure it that consumption of nasty tasting liquors will not be necessary.

I type in "Daniel Jackson and archaeology" and hit the return key. "Bingo!" I say gleefully as my ever so complex search resulted in 49 hits. Somehow, I have received my results in reverse chronological order, but I don't really mind much as this will just give me a chance to get to know Daniel from earliest to latest.

I click on the first article and read a copy of (one of) Daniel's valedictorian speech from New York University . 17 years old and the guy is the **university** valedictorian. Whoa. I read a couple articles he published about teaching archaeological methodology to undergrads, but nothing of any substance.

I want substance!

Having exhausted my search with ERIC, I now turn to the Science Citation Index. Most of these articles are likely to be way too scientific for me, but I still might find something of interest.

"Well, this is weird," I say aloud as I click on the first (technically last) article and bring up a _scathing_ review of "Dr. Daniel Jackson's Delusions". The article is from _Journal of Egyptian Archaeology_ and goes on to describe the keynote speech Daniel gave to an esteemed body of archaeologists in the summer of 1995. Sections of Daniel's speech are reprinted and then an analysis of the speech's content is supplied below.

The speech starts out extremely scholarly and Daniel uses a hell of a lot of words that I once recently learned in my studies. He talks dynasties and kingdoms and I can just imagine him gesturing wildly as he writes down translations on a chalkboard.

It's a little hard to focus with my eyes jumping around the page like they are (the spinning room isn't helping either), but I try to focus as I scan further down the article.

Hold on a second.. this doesn't make sense. I force myself to concentrate and focus and scroll back up to the start of the dialogue.

**Dr. Daniel Jackson**_ : "Every other major architectural structure at the time was covered with detailed hieroglyphics. When is the academic community going to accept that the fact, that the pharos of the 4 th dynasty did not build the Great Pyramids?"_

What?! Daniel, what the hell are you talking about?

_"Look, look.. inside the pyramid, the most incredible structure ever erected, there are no writings what so ever." _

**_Dr. Edward Higgins: _**_"Dr Jackson, you left out the fact that Colonel Weiss discovered Corrimon's inscriptions of __Kofu__ 's name **within** the pyramid." _

**_Dr. Daniel Jackson:_**_ "Well, his discovery was a fraud." _

**_Dr. Edward Higgins:_**_ "Well I hope you can prove it." _

**_Dr. Harold Smythe:_**_ "Well, who do you think built the pyramids?" _

**_Dr. Jackson:_**_ "I don't have any idea who built them, I mean that..." _

**_Voice 1_**_ : "Men from Atlantis?" _

**_Voice 2_**_ : "Or Martians perhaps?" _

Oh Daniel! This must have been horrible for you! I mean, sure- you are talking complete nonsense, but that is no reason for those men to be so mean! Idly I draw a pyramid on a piece of scratch paper by my computer. I add a really bad picture of a big-headed alien next to the pyramid picture and continue reading.

**_Dr. Daniel Jackson: _**_"The point is not who built them, the point is **when **they were built. I mean we all know new geological evidence distinctly points to an earlier time period. And knowing this, I think we have to begin to reevaluate everything we have come to accept about.." _

_I mean I have been able to show a fully developed writing system appearing here in the first two dynasties. You know, which, almost as if it were based on an even earlier time.." _

Earlier time? What the hell are you talking about Daniel? Diringer dates Egyptian hieroglyphics at 3000 BCE and the even older Mesopotamian cuneiform to 3500 BCE . But those two languages developed independently from one another and there just isn't anything older than that! At least nothing that we have found. Nothing that survived 5000 years of being stuffed in an airless vessel… 'Linear B' didn't even make headlines until 1200 BCE , only a couple hundred years before the earliest known Chinese scripts were found. I really got a kick out of discovering that several different cultures "invented" language independently from one another.

The article goes on to interview Dr. Higgens and his take on Daniel's speech. I read on shakily and my eyes blur with tears as I read the mean commentary from one of Daniel's supposed colleagues. Dr. Higgens is quoted as saying that Daniel will inevitably become "the laughing stock of the archaeological world"; much like his grandfather did back in the early 70's.

Huh? Grandfather?

I shake my head slowly side to side and try to focus on the issue as hand. "Daniel, you hafta admit," I say aloud, "giving that speech wasn't your brightest move."

I giggle as I trace my picture of the big-headed alien. Aliens building the pyramids of Giza ! Can you imagine such a sight! I finish drawing a big bright sun above my plain-looking pyramid when suddenly I flash back to one of my first meetings with Daniel.

_"I was extremely jet-lagged when I was in here last." _

_"Where'd you fly in from? _

_"__ Egypt__ ."_

For some reason, I seem to remember Daniel hesitating before he said the "Egypt " part. Flickers of drunken-induced insight come to me, as I recall conversation after conversation that I've had with Daniel that just seemed _off. _

_"My wife was..IS from a more traditional Egyptian family." _

_"You mean like Nubians?" _

_"No, not Nubian but something like that. Sha're and her family led very simple lives and physical tokens of commitment were generally not used." _

_"So what happened?" _

_"She was kidnapped. It happened about a year ago and I have been searching for her ever since." _

_"And Colonel Jack is helping you." _

_"When he can, Jack is definitely helping." _

Daniel's Egyptian wife is kidnapped and a United States Colonel is helping Daniel find her? Doesn't that seem a little funny? And what about all those other weird Daniel moments? Daniel coming off of drugs; Daniel with his arm in a sling; bruises on his body; gaunt and pale in the middle of summer; tan and fit in the middle of winter.

Why?

Why does Daniel have carte blanche to the Colorado Springs University library? Why, when he "goes into the field", are those trips referred to as "missions"?

Why did Daniel smile when Jack referred to his wounded shoulder as an "archery accident", and why did _both _of them nearly burst out laughing when they described Jack's woefully poor state a couple years ago as a "training accident"?

And what about..

I gasp suddenly as realization hits me.

_"Would you believe me if I told you I was kidnapped by aliens and cryogenically frozen?" _

What if Daniel was telling the truth?

_"Daniel, why did you cut your hair?" _

_"It was definitely not my idea." _

_"The alien kidnappers did it huh?" _

_"Exactly."****_

Alien kidnappers…

_"How did you and Jack meet?" _

_"There will be holes in this one Kira, but that's because some of it falls under that "national security" thing, ok? But I'll tell you what I can. _

_"I set to work on translating the artifact and what I found made a lot of people nervous. Jack was actually called in to lead a team to find out more information about the people who made the artifact." _

_"This is where __Egypt__ comes in, right? Where you met Sha're?" _

_"Umm- sort of. All I can tell you Kira is that we traveled a very far distance and met some people we had never met before." _

**Sort of…national security….artifact..very long distance..met some people we have never met before…kidnapped by aliens.. **

Kidnapped by aliens…

Holy Shit! Daniel's theory wasn't just a theory! He's an alien archaeologist and Jack and Sam are his military body guards! That's it! I'm right! I know, I am! My heart is thumping like crazy and I feel like my brain might explode at what this realization really means. 

Aliens are real. And judging from the occassional sorry state of my friends, sometimes they aren't all that friendly.

I want to find out more- I want to _talk_ to Daniel and Jack and Sam. I want to..

I want to _not_ get sick. I realize that if I am not horizontal in the next five seconds, I'm going to once again be sick. Hastily, I save my assorted searches and shakily climb back into bed. I am _never_ going to drink again!

I lie quietly in my bed and take small, shallow breaths. The nauseau fades a bit and I think about what I have discovered this evening.

Daniel's an alien archaeologist.

Daniel's a freakin' alien archaeologist!

Against my will I feel my consciousness fading and my last thought before falling to sleep is…

* * *

**Morning **

Don't forget.

I wake up with the biggest honking headache I have ever had and the random phrase, "don't forget" floating around my head. Seems to me, I would _want _to forget all about Bill and his necrophilic tendencies. Gee, lucky me. I didn't forget a damn thing.

I slowly roll out of bed and groan audibly when my feet hit the carpet and the reverberations shoot straight to my head. I swear I will never drink again. I slowly make my way to the bathroom and marvel at the horrid state of my bathroom. There's a toothbrush on the side of the bathtub, the tube of toothpaste _in_ the bathtub, and a bar of soap soaking in the sink.

I take out a new toothbrush and brush my teeth.

I feel a bit better after my shower, but there are still several concertos going on inside my head at decibel levels. I pad to the kitchen and take a diet coke from the refrigerator, purposefully ignoring the sorry state of the kitchen. I head back to my room grateful that my roommates won't be home until this evening.

I pop open the soda and turn on my computer in order to mail my friend Jeannie the latest in my dating fiascos. I'm a little surprised to find that I am still logged into the University network. Weird. I don't reme mb er being online last night. Guess, I did forget something after all.. Wonder what I was doing?

I check my Internet history and discover that I apparently played in the school libraries last night. I could see that I looked at both ERIC and Science Citation Index, but apparently I didn't save my searches and I can't for the life of me figure out what I was looking for.

I take another sip of my soda and set my drink down on a piece of paper by the computer. I then move my soda and pick up the paper in puzzlement. A triangle, a circle and a really bad stick figure.

I lift the freshly-ringed paper up closer and try to reme mb er what the heck I was thinking about when I drew these very funny-looking shapes. A delta sign? Maybe I was doing bizarre mathematical equations last night? The delta of null is… a funny looking human. Nope. That can't be right.

I stare at the heavily traced triangle with the big circle on top of it and rack my brain trying to reme mb er just what it was I was trying to draw. After a minute or two, my head seriously starts to throb, and I set the piece of paper back down and go online to check my email.

Maybe I'll remember what the damn cryptic doodle means later.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Aren't I evil? I just thought it would be so much fun to have Kira figure things out (sort of) but then forget it all the next day. Obviously, the bits about Daniel's experience in front of those stuffy scholarly sorts came from my badly transcribed Stargate movies dialog. The additional information Kira talks about with language origins? That comes from Walter J. Ong's 1996 book, _Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word._ I'm currently reading a chapter of his book _right now_ for a graduate class I'm taking on the History of Information. How's that for serendipity? 

All the database stuff is real and both ERIC and the Science Citation Index are actual online databases. The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology is the real McCoy as well, although I doubt they would print an article that gave the blow-by-blow account of a lecture!

The funny song about putting one foot in front of the other came from the Christmas Special, "Santa Clause is Coming To Town" (Thanks, Jane!), and will probably be well known to all Americans out there (especially those who grew up in the 70s and 80s), but not so well known to everyone else. Sorry about that-- the song just seemed to fit.

PLEASE let me know what you thought of this! As always, your feedback is seriously one of the main reasons this series is still going on. I can't thank you guys enough for all the wonderful support you give me.

Completed October 18, 2004


	33. Hangover Cures

**Title:** Barista 33 -- Hangover Cures  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** 0405- Divide and Conquer  
**Category** Humor / Angst  
**Rating:** PG-13 

**Author's Notes:** This takes place the day after the events in Barista 32- Epiphany.

* * *

It was probably a good thing I was feeling absolutely miserable the next time I saw Daniel. You know you drank too much, when 32 hours later you're still in pain. Horrible, mind numbing pain. 

Actually, if my mind was really numb, I really wouldn't be in such pain now would I? 

Have I mention how much I hate Bill and Jaegermeister (order not important)? Not only do I still sport a headache the size of a small moon, but my failure in the art of dating is really starting to get me down. Not to mention this niggly feeling in the back of my mind, like I've forgotten something important. I had put my funny drawing of the triangle/circle/ugly stick figure, into my wallet on the off-chance I had actually stumbled across an alternative fuel source or something. Maybe I had just misplaced the explanatory legend somewhere… I'm not normally a doodler (probably because I am such a piss-poor drawer), so I have to wonder what the hell I was thinking about when I sketched that picture. 

If you can honestly call it a picture. 

To add to my confusion, in my attempt to do school work yesterday (a dismal failure), I found out that I was online for **three** hours the night before. Three hours? What the hell was I looking at for three hours? Afraid that I had discovered some sort of previously unknown porn fetish or something, I checked both my Internet history and cookies, and (thankfully) discovered nothing unusual. Which of course begs the question; _just what was I doing for three hours the night of July 21st?_

I am still mulling over possible scenarios when a familiar figure walks through my doors. Although I still feel like death warmed over, I have every intention of kidding Daniel about beating up those bullies at O'Malleys a couple of weeks ago. I am dying to hear whatever lame excuse he'll try and con off on me this week. Oh don't get me wrong, I really do adore Daniel, but I know for a fact he lies through his teeth. Not on purpose mind you… Well, actually, yes- on purpose. But I'm certain, it's a really good purpose. 

Reason. 

Dammit! Have I mentioned that my head hurts? 

I have several different "Best of Daniel Excuses" running inside said head. Heh, maybe he'll use the old, "the aliens made him do it" - definitely a crowd pleaser! 

Unfortunately, all thoughts of joking die immediately as he walks towards the front counter. First off, Daniel looks good. GQ good. Most definitely not geeky or scientist-like, that's for sure. I blink a couple of times to make certain I am really seeing Dr. Daniel Jackson - Dr. Daniel Jackson in a beautifully tailored dark brown suit with a light blue-gray shirt and shiny brown tie. 

My mouth suddenly goes a bit dry, but I'll blame that on dehydration. 

"Hi Daniel," I say casually, as I _drink_ in the seriously nice looking figure Daniel cut in his pretty-looking suit. So much for the beating up bullies line. 

"Hi Kira," Daniel replies absently and without his usual warmth. He might look absolutely gorgeous, but there's something pretty serious going on inside Daniel's mind right now. He doesn't (thankfully) appear injured, but something is wrong. He stands in front of the espresso machine for several long seconds. I motion for one of the other Baristas to take over counter duty and concentrate on Daniel. 

"Can I get you an Americano, Daniel?" I ask quietly, not wanting to disturb his obviously unsettled self any more than it already is. I really don't know what's wrong, but Daniel has come into my coffee shop; the least I can do is offer him a cup of coffee. 

"Sam likes double tall mochachinos," Daniel declares suddenly, eyes not really fixed on anything but thin air. I've only served Sam a couple of times, and actually wasn't aware of that. 

"Should I make Sam a mochachino?" I ask grabbing the chocolate milk pitcher. Daniel ignores me as he stares off into space. 

"Daniel?" I try again. 

"Oh. Sorry Kira," Daniel says apologetically as he focuses a little on me and not that dark place he just was. "What was it you asked?" 

"Should I make Sam a mochachino?" I repeat. What little color that remained on Daniel's face quickly vanishes. 

"No," Daniel replies instantly. He appears shocked that I would even suggest such a thing. 

Suddenly, I feel all the blood leaving _my_ face as I realize with crystal clarity what's going on. Daniel is in a suit. Daniel is clearly upset about something, and Daniel just turned the color of starched sheets at the mention of Sam's name. 

No.  
No, it isn't possible.  
Sam Carter is not dead.  
No! 

"Daniel..?" I feel my lower lip start to quiver. God, please let this just be an over-reaction to lack of sleep and too much alcohol. 

"Kira, what's wrong?" Daniel asks worriedly, taking a step closer and looking into my eyes. My breath catches, as I peer into his concerned face and suddenly I feel the need to be outside. Hastily I mumble something about needing a break to the lone barista on duty, and ducking under the counter, grab Daniel's hand and pull him outside with me. 

"Kira?" Daniel tries again. "What's going on?" 

"Why are you in a suit?" I demand urgently. 

"What?" Daniel asks, clearly confused. 

"Daniel," I repeat, enunciating each word, "why are you in a suit?" 

"I just came from a..um…very important meeting," Daniel replies still perplexed. 

"Not a funeral?" I have to be sure. 

"No," Daniel says wrinkling his forehead in confusion. "What made you think I just came from a funeral?" Now I feel silly. Relieved, but silly. 

"Your suit," I mumble as I feel all the blood rush back to my cheeks. At the rate my blood is moving about, I'm probably going to pass out any moment now. 

Daniel is still confused (welcome to the club), but recognizes that I am obviously upset about something. He leads me to a table and makes me sit. 

"Kira, what is going on?" Daniel unbuttons the top button on his jacket and sits down across from me. 

"Your suit…" I look at Daniel anxiously, but apparently "your suit" isn't enough to make him understand. I try again, "Sam's mochachino." Once again, I notice a look of sadness come over Daniel. 

"I was right!" I cry out loud. "Sam is dead!" With that, I burst into tears. 

"What are you **talking** about, Kira?" Daniel asks, patting his pockets in search of a handkerchief. "Sam is not dead." He hands me a wad of napkins and I wipe my eyes and noisily blow my nose. 

"She's not?" I hiccup, trying to get my emotions back under control. 

"No," Daniel confirms, shaking his head resolutely from side to side. "I saw Sam not more than 30 minutes ago Kira - and she was…" His sentence drops off as Daniel struggles to find the right words. 

"She isn't fine though, is she?" I ask knowingly. I might be a hung over, emotional basket case, but I knew something was still wrong. 

"No," Daniel agrees. "She isn't fine." Seeing my face crumple once again, he quickly goes on, "But she will be Kira. Sam will be fine soon." I can see in Daniel's eyes, the he truly believes this to be the Gospel Truth. So if Daniel believes it, than it must be true, right? Suddenly, I get a random flash of that damn funny picture I made. 

"What happened?" I ask, shaking my head slightly to dispel that bizarre image. Instantly Daniel gets that pained look on his face that always preludes a rather large lie. Or at least a rather large stretch on the truth. 

"There was an accident on the base," Daniel begins. "Someone close to Sam was killed." 

"That's horrible!" I exclaim. Daniel nods in agreement. 

"It was pretty horrible Kira," Daniel repeats softly. "I might have been able to do something to prevent it, but it all happened so fast…" 

"Daniel, I might not have been there, but I am **certain** you did everything you could." Huh. How'd that happen? One minute Daniel's comforting me, and now here I am comforting him! 

"Maybe," Daniel agrees. But I can tell he doesn't really believe that yet. Where's Jack when I need him? 

"Can I make Sam a mochachino?" I ask at a loss for words. As if **that** will make her feel better. 

Daniel shakes his head. "Sam's going to be out of town for a couple of days," Daniel explains. "She went to visit her dad." 

"Did her dad know the person who died?" I ask quietly. 

"Yes, actually," Daniel says as if he suddenly realizes this himself. "He did." I can see a little of Daniel's own guilt abate and he gives my hand a little squeeze. "I'm a little warm out here in this suit, how about if we go back inside and you make me an iced Americano?" 

"Sure," I reply wiping my nose once again. I lead Daniel back into the shop and hastily run into the back room to wash my hands and face. 

"Everything ok, Kree?" Jeanne calls out, as I return to the espresso machine. 

"Yeah," I reply, nodding as I pull two perfect shots of espresso for Daniel. "Everything is fine." I pull the shots over a cup of ice, and then add additional ice cubs and water. "You sure you're ok, Kira?" Daniel asks as he finishes paying, and stuffs a few dollars into the tip jar. 

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question, Daniel?" 

"Maybe," Daniel says with a shrug, "but I'm not the one suffering from a hangover from hell." Immediately I turn bright pink. How the hell did he know that? Daniel looks at my confused (and obviously embarrassed) self and chuckles. 

"I'm a genius, remember?" He offers self depreciatively as an explanation. "I might have spent the majority of my college days with my nose in a book Kira, but that doesn't mean I didn't notice what went on around me." Too stunned to speak, I just nod. 

"Try drinking tomato juice," Daniel suggests. "Your body is mostly likely dehydrated, but I bet you need the sodium as well." 

"Thanks," I stutter looking down at the counter. How the hell did he figure it out so fast?! 

"Genius, Kira." Daniel says again, chuckling to himself. Obviously, Daniel is going out of his way to try and make _me_ feel better. Which is kinda crazy if you think about it, as it was his friend who just witnessed a death. 

You're a good man Daniel Jackson. 

Daniel turns around and heads for the door, but suddenly stops and shakes his head. He turns back around and walks back towards me. 

"Actually, Kira," Daniel says sheepishly, "the tomato juice thing is Jack's idea." 

"It is?" 

"Yeah." There's more coming, I can just feel it. 

"And while it is true that I didn't drink much in college.." Yes? **Do** go on, Daniel. 

"I have, unfortunately, had more than a few drunken nights with Jack…" Daniel pauses for a moment, "_Because_ of Jack actually." I smother a giggle. I can _totally_ see Jack getting Daniel drunk. 

"Which resulted in a hangover from hell?" 

"Oh yeah," Daniel agrees, wincing at the memory. "Apparently, I'm a cheap date, Kira." 

This time, I'm the one laughing. Unfortunately, a woman in my delicate condition really shouldn't be doing that. Ow! I let out a small moan and grab my grab my head in hopes of keeping it in one piece. 

"Tomato juice," Daniel mouths, as he pats my hand sympathetically and heads out the door. I glance over at Jeanne and raise my eyebrows in question. 

"I'll be fine Kree," Jeanne says chuckling, as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a $5 dollar bill. "Go do what the cute young doctor says, and get yourself some tomato juice." Grabbing my water bottle from under the counter, I do just that.

* * *

**Ramblings:**

Tomato juice really does help alleviate the symptoms of a hangover. Bloody Mary's however, are even better. Thanks to Lew and Susan for beta'ing and my unlikely reviewer for the suggestion of Sam's drink preference. I know, I know- she owes _you_ $10.

Completed October 31, 2004


	34. Simple Pleasures

**Title:** Barista 34 -- Simple Pleasures  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** 0405- Window of Opportunity  
**Category** Humor  
**Rating:** PG 

**Author's Notes:** Author's Notes: I _swear_ the idea for this story has been in my head for ages. Not wanting this series to be anything but canon, I wasn't going to go into the whole Jack/Sam kiss thing. What I _did_ want, was to write a little something for Jack. After all the poor guy just went through how many months of monotony?? The story idea is mine - some of the ingredient suggestions _might_ have come from others. eg

* * *

I am having such an odd day. 

On the ride into work, my front tire blew. Now this alone isn't so odd, but I _swear_ as it blew, I knew it was going to happen. Kinda a déjà vu kind of thing; only multiplied by a factor of ten or so. Yeah, it was that intense. 

I'm a good 20 minutes late for work, and apologize profusely to Victor before washing up and putting on my apron. Victor actually isn't mad – which in itself is a little unusual. And then he tells me (smiling slyly) that there is something he needs for me to do. Now, you can argue that I did indeed know that today was barista training day, but seeing as how I wasn't the one scheduled to train them, I didn't really give it much thought. But, at that moment, I _knew_ Victor was going to ask me to be the trainer. Knew it, knew it, knew it. 

Déjà vu. 

And so I, lucky me, get to train newbies. Joy. 

The good news is that explaining the importance of timed espresso shots and the differences in coffee grinds actually takes up most of my morning. I know I may bitch about training, but I think I actually do a fairly decent job. I do enjoy explaining things to folks, but I'd much rather it be on something, say, _more important_ than the difference between a French roast and an Italian roast. 22 ½ years old and already I'm jaded… 

I'm just about to take a break (the "kids" having been sent to lunch a few minutes earlier) when I hear a familiar voice. 

"Allow me, ma'am." 

I turn towards the voice, and spy a very chipper Jack O'Neill holding the door open for a 20-something young woman. She giggles at Jack's chivalry. 

"Anyone else want in or out while I have it open?" he asks the room politely, shifting the brown bag he's carrying from one arm to the other. Hearing no response, Jack walks through the door and saunters over towards the front counter. 

"Hiya Kira!" I don't think I have ever seen Jack sound so darn… happy! His eyes are twinkling with pleasure and he is looking around the shop as if he hasn't seen it in ages. Which is ridiculous as he and Daniel stopped by after work just last week. Suddenly my eyes open wide and I can feel my eyebrows nearly disappearing into my hairline as I realize what this means: Jack has a girlfriend! 

I mean it makes sense, right? Twinkle in his eye, bounce in his step – Jack's gotten lucky! I'd be jealous, except I'm way beyond thinking of Jack as the "tall cute guy". Oh Jack is attractive all right, but I would feel pretty creeped out if I thought of him in that way. Jack's way more the father-like figure for me. It's one thing to have a crush on my cute 40-something professor at school, but seeing as how I don't actually know the guy makes it all right. 

Hey, it makes sense to me, ok? 

"Hi Jack," I answer with just as much enthusiasm. "Having a good day?" 

"The **best**," Jack replies, giving me a large smile. Jack doesn't do big smiles often, so I'm standing firm in my assumption that he a new girlfriend. "Anyone I know?" I fish. 

"Anyone you know, what?" he answers, sounding confused. He sets the bag down on the counter with a loud clunk. 

"Your new _girlfriend_, Jack," I reply patiently. "Anyone I know?" 

"I don't have a new girlfriend," he insists, looking bemused. 

"Promotion?" I try again. 

"Nope," Jack says, shaking his head. 

"Pay raise?" 

"Uh uh." 

"Discovered a new deep space telemetry astral body?" I'm still _highly_ skeptical about what Jack does up there in Cheyenne Mountain, but "officially" he does work on this deep space project. Somehow. 

"That's more Carter's area, actually," Jack replies jovially. His eyes are still dancing around like he can't think of anything better to do than argue with me about why he's happy. 

"Kicked some deep space telemetry's alien ass?" I try again. Hey! If Daniel can use the 'alien' line, than so can I. 

Jack laughs. "Not this week." 

"All right, I give up!" I announce, throwing both hands into the air. "Why are you in such a darn good mood, Jack?" 

"I'm just having a darn good day, Kira," Jack replies. He takes a deep breath and blissfully inhales the aroma of fresh ground coffee. "Your coffee smells damn good." 

Before I can comment on _that_ rather odd comment, Daniel comes bustling into the shop. In his arms are three bags of groceries. 

"You owe me coffee, Jack," Daniel insists, as he sets the bags down on a table. 

"Did you get everything?" Jack asks eagerly, sticking his nose into first one bag and then another. 

Daniel begins listing items off on his finger tips. "Red peppers, yellow peppers, portobello mushrooms, wild onions, cherry tomatoes…" 

"What about the steaks?" 

Daniel rolls his eyes. "I wasn't finished yet, Jack." He starts counting off items on his left hand, "six t-bone steaks, five pounds of potato salad, blue and red jello and two six packs of beer." 

"Wow," I say. "That's impressive." 

"And heavy," Daniel adds, massaging his right bicep. 

"What about the fruit?" Jack asks impatiently. "I want a pomegranate!" 

"Jack, have you ever even tasted a pomegranate before?" Daniel asks, smiling. 

"No, but I read up on them a bit during one of my "off" loops," Jack explains. 

_Off loops_? 

"Jack, I can't believe you just said that!" Daniel admonishes, looking shocked. 

"Oh, give it a rest, Danny," Jack replies cheerfully. "Kira already knows we use weird military jargon all the time. I think she's used to it." He gives me a look. "You're used to us making no sense at all, right?" 

"Oh, absolutely, Jack!" I reply, laughing. "You guys often make no sense whatsoever. Don't worry about it!" 

"See?" Jack says, pointing his thumb at me, "no sense whatsoever." 

Daniel sighs loudly. "Sam is picking up the ingredients for the fruit salad, Murray is bringing some home specialty dishes, and Janet said that she and Cassie will be bringing the dessert." 

"Desserts," Jack adds. "Desserts, plural, Daniel." He whips out his cellphone and begins to press some buttons. "Do I need to remind Fraiser?" 

Daniel reaches out and snatches Jack's phone. "Desserts plural, Jack," he placates. "Janet heard your "orders" as well as everyone else. She's going to bring at least two different fruit pies, a plate of brownies and a chocolate cake." 

Jack nods. "That should work for the time being," he muses. 

"Party?" I ask. 

"Sort of," Daniel replies a little awkwardly. He has that look on his face that always preludes a really big whopper; a cross between looking constipated and an epiphany. 

"You saw us last week, right?" Daniel continues. I nod. "Well, during that week, Jack here participated in a…ummm…a sensory deprivation experiment." 

"Really?" I ask, interested. I had read something about those weird water-filled tanks that prevent external feelings of any kind. Part of me finds it fascinating; the other part of me thinks it would be a horrible experience. 

"In a manner of speaking," Jack replies, giving Daniel a funny look. I swear I saw Daniel shrug slightly. 

"Let's just say, Kira," Jack adds, "that it **feels** like I haven't had any good food or drink in _months_." I take a moment to mull that over. It certainly would explain Jack's desire for all those fresh vegetables… I stand up on my tip toes and try to peek into Jack's brown bag. I knew Daniel bought the vegetables, and Sam was getting the fruit – what did Jack buy? 

"What's in the bag, Jack?" I ask, eyeing the 'Colorado State Liquor Board' logo on the outside. 

"Would you believe wholesome fruit juice and milk?" Jack replies. I laugh and shake my head. 

"Not for a moment." 

"_Months_ without good food and drink," Jack replies, as he reaches into the bag and pulls out another brown-bagged bottle of something or other. 

"You know Daniel's favorite coffee drink, Kira," Jack says cheerfully, "but I bet you don't know mine." He taps the bagged bottle lightly. "Guess." 

I smile at the challenge. "Well, obviously that bottle didn't come from the Wholesome Foods shop down the street.." I begin. Jack shakes his head. "And you did say something about your favorite coffee drink.." Jack nods. 

"Whiskey," I guess. Jack doesn't strike me a sweet coffee drinker, so that ruled out Baileys or Kahlua. It had to be whiskey and Irish Coffee. 

"What kind of whiskey?" Jack shoots back. Oh give me a break, Jack! As if I know anything about whiskey! 

"Single malt?" I try. Jack shakes his head. 

"That's scotch, Kira." 

"Jack, I think I'd be worried if Kira could name whiskey brands off the top of her head." Thank you Daniel! 

"It's Jameson's," Jack says, showing me a bit of the label. "Triple distilled and the best whiskey ever for Irish coffee. 

"I see," I say, smiling at Jack's enthusiasm for his whiskey. "Well then, we should probably get you some coffee to go with that whiskey." 

"Absolutely!" Jack says, nodding his head vigorously. "Get Daniel here whatever he normally drinks, and I'll take two half pounds of a good dark-roasted coffee." I lift an eyebrow at Daniel. 

"Ground for drip," Daniel mouths. I smile. 

As I'm getting Daniel a double tall iced latte (it is summer, after all) and Jack his coffee, I can't help but watch Jack as he stares around the room people-watching. I notice that Daniel is watching Jack as well. Both of us are clearly getting a kick out of seeing Jack so.. buoyant. 

"I know you both are staring at me," Jack says in a sing-song voice, as he watches a young mother with her newborn. He turns to Daniel, "I'm just enjoying things, that's all." 

"Nothing wrong with that, Jack," Daniel agrees, nodding. "We're just used to the 'Colonel Hard-ass' persona, so this is a bit of a trip." 

"Colonel hard-ass?" He repeats. I giggle. "Carter doesn't call me that, does she?" 

"Of course not, sir." All three of us whip our heads around to see Sam Carter standing in the doorway, her arms laden with grocery bags. She's wearing a strappy sundress and sandals and doesn't look military-ish at all! 

"Did you get everything, Carter?" Jack asks, standing up and relieving Sam of one of the grocery bags. 

"Even the pomegranate sir," Sam replies, smiling. "Hi, Kira," Sam says, catching my eye. 

"You weren't part of the sensory deprivation experiment were you, Sam?" I ask. Sam looks first at Jack and then Daniel before slowly shaking her head no. I chuckle to myself as I take in her confusion. 

"Would you like a coffee, Sam?" 

"No offense Kira," Sam says, "but I'm saving myself for a cold beer." 

"Amen to that," Jack adds. 

I finish grinding the coffee and ring Jack up. "Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, guys," I say, giving them a wave. I'd love to see a picture of Jack taking a bite of that pomegranate. Wonder if anyone will tell him he's supposed to peel it first.. 

"It's the simple pleasures, Kira," Jack replies, opening the door for Daniel and Sam. He gives me a little two-fingered salute and merrily follows his friends outside into the late afternoon sunshine. 

Maybe sensory deprivation isn't so bad after all.

* * *

**More Author's Notes:**

Thanks to Susan for beta'ing, my unlikely reviewer for the idea of Jack's favorite drink, and Neurospych for her unintentional suggestion of a pomegranate. g

Completed November 7, 2004


	35. Professor Yummy and Colonel Sumptuous

**Title:** Barista 35 -- Professor Yummy & Colonel Sumptuous  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** 0408- The First Ones  
**Category** Humor, slight Hurt/Comfort  
**Rating:** PG-13 for potty-mouth language/imagery

**Author's Notes:** This week marks the **two-year** anniversary of The Barista. Two years! If anyone had told me my little attempt at "branching out" would lead to this, I would have said they were nuts! Thank you so much to everyone who has read and enjoyed my stories. It is your feedback and encouragement that truly keeps this series alive. Thirty-five chapter's worth and over 500 reviews -- I am sincerely awed/amazed/happy. Thank you!!

As you might be able to guess from the title snicker, this Barista is written from Stefan's point of view. Enjoy! Oh, and this has yet to be beta'd, so any typos and odd grammar boo-boos we'll have to wait a day or two to be corrected.

* * *

Mornings bite. 

I really don't know how Kree does it. Sure, the tips are a bit better at this god-forsaken hour, but the lack of a full eight hours of sleep has left me feeling grumpy and lethargic. I catch sight of myself in one of the shop's mirrors and grimace – I should have used more moisturizer.

I just need to remind myself that by working today, I'll be getting all of Memorial Day weekend off. I can't help the cat-got-the-cream smile the creeps across my face. September 2nd, 3rd and 4th free! Wait until Chris finds out…

My ever so pleasant musings are cut short when the door opens and I instantly put on my quasi-professional face. Sure, I'm young, cute and Gay, but not everyone appreciates that. Best to appear professional first, before one turns to flirting.

Ah! But flirt I shall! Because who should walk through my golden gates? Professor Yummy himself, Dr. Daniel Jackson. Kira absolutely hates when I call him that, but come on! Those lips, that ass, the man will always be Professor Yummy to me.

"Good morning Dr. Jackson," I say solicitously. No need to scare the poor guy so early in the morning. I know I make him nervous, and that of course only adds to my fun. Sure, the guy can run rings around my brain, but one little look from me, and his voice gets all squeaky and he tries to run away.

Heh. I'm evil.

"Er..hi Stefan," Daniel replies nervously as he looks hopefully around the room for Kira. Sorry, Doc – all you get today is **me**.

"Kira's not here," I explain as my smile slips just a little. Daniel doesn't look so hot. Correction - Daniel doesn't look well. "Daniel, you ok?" Besides this nasty looking cut across his face, the poor guy has that slightly gaunt quasi-supermodel look about his face. Dehydration?

"Sure," he replies refusing to meet my gaze. Fine, my ass! Honey, you so shouldn't go into politics. You can't lie to save the planet!

"You know," I say conversationally as I pull two shots of espresso for Daniel's Americano. "Kira has a phone number taped to her locker in the backroom." Daniel wrinkles his bruised brow as he tries to decipher that comment.

"Should you be looking in Kira's locker?" He asks. I shake my head. That's so beside the point here..

"The locker isn't important Dr. Jackson," I say as I add hot water to his drink. "The point is that everyone who works here knows about that number."

"Whose number is it?"

"One Colonel Jack O'Neill, USAF." I look at Daniel expectantly and the poor guy blushes a deep crimson.

"It seems," I continue as I start handing Daniel his drink. In a flash of inspiration, I pull it away and dump the contents down the sink drain. I have a better idea for you my injured lamb..

"It seems," I begin again as I pull not one nor two but _three_ shots of espresso. "That Kira has had to deal with an altered or injured Dr. Jackson on more than one occasion."

"It's only been once or twice," Daniel replies petulantly. I refrain from telling him how damn cute he looks when he pouts.

"I believe it's up to **four** times Dr. Jackson," I correct, as I pour the three shots into a tall cup and add a splash of almond flavoring.

"She's only had to call Jack twice," he sulks. Have I mentioned how cute he looks when he pouts?

"That you _know_ about," I add. I put the cup aside and take out a pitcher of chocolate milk.

"Anyhow, Kira was worried that you might show up one day and need some help when she wasn't here."

"I can look after myself you know." Daniel is starting to get a little pissed off now, so I had best tone it down a bit.

"She knows that Daniel," I say kindly as I turn on the steamer for a good thirty seconds. The machine dies down and I continue.

"She was just worried about you," I repeat. "And she wanted all of "regulars" at the shop to keep an eye out for you. If things ever got really bad, we were to call Colonel Sum.. Colonel O'Neill." Oops. Now _that_ would have been embarrassing.

"Kira just wanted everyone to know what that number was."

I quickly wipe down the steamer wand and pour the chocolaty goodness into the cup with the three espresso shots and almond flavoring. The entire concoction smells heavenly, but it isn't quite right. I sniff at it once more and decide to add just a splash of macadamia nut flavoring as well. I top it off with a dollop of whip cream and slide it over to Daniel.

"Drink," I order.

"What **is** this?" Daniel asks wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Triple tall macadamia almond mocha," I reply.

"I can't drink this!" Daniel laughs, sliding the drink back my way.

"Oh, I bet you can," I answer sliding the cup back towards him.

"Oh no, I can't," he repeats, sliding the cup back at me. I'm about to slide it back at him again (who knows how long we would have kept that up) when the door opens.

"Daniel, you said you'd just be a min.."

"Howdy," I say smiling over at one Colonel Jack O'Neill. I quickly slide the cup back to Daniel and move away from the counter. "Can I get you a drink?" I resist sighing a happy little sigh as I take in the picture of one casual-looking Colonel striding into my shop. Does he have any idea how _good_ he looks in khakis?

"Stefan," Jack says warily as he looks around the room for Kira. I won't take it personally; the girl is prettier than me after all.

Although not by much.

"Daniel, are you all right?" Jack asks, as moves closer towards his friend. Daniel holds up an arm to wave Jack away. I can't help but notice the bruising and red welts along his wrist. Daniel! Don't you know you are supposed to use padded handcuffs when you play?

Instantly, I chide myself for thinking such a thing. Obviously, Daniel had a rough weekend, and I don't mean the fun kind.

"I'm fine Jack," he says impatiently. "Stefan and I were just having a difference of opinion on my coffee drink selection."

"What's the problem?" Jack asks casually as he walks over to the counter and sniffs at Daniel's drink.

"Whoa!" He says taking a step backwards. "I'm not sure Janet would approve that much caffeine and chocolate.." Apparently, those were exactly not the words to say to one hen-pecked archaeologist.

"This will be **perfect** Stefan, thank you." With that he picks up the drink and takes a long sip. I think he was prepared for something foul-tasting as the contentment that radiates from his face definitely surprised him.

"This is good!" Daniel says aloud. Ha! Knew you'd like it.

"Glad you like it Daniel, can we go now?" Jack asks impatiently as he peels off the Velcro surrounding his watch and checks his time. Velcro on watches? Military guys are so weird.

Cute, but weird.

"Really, Jack!" Daniel continues taking another gulp of the mocha. "This is really good!" Jack can't help but smile slightly at the look on his friend's face.

"I'm glad you like your drink Daniel," Jack says, "but we need to be getting back to the mountain. Janet will kill me if I don't have you back on time."

"She wouldn't _kill_ you Jack," Daniel begins.

"I promised I'd have you back by 0700," Jack reminds him.

"Which I found ridiculous," Daniel adds. "I was perfectly able to take care of myself Jack."

"Ha!" Jack retorts in disbelief. "You really need to wait a few days before you can try that defense, Daniel."

"I kept myself alive!" Daniel fires back angrily.

"Barely!" Jack yells back.

"Um, guys?" I now completely understand what Kree is talking about when she refers to the "Jack and Daniel show". These two are really in a class of their own.

"Sorry," Daniel says contritely. "Thanks for the coffee Stefan; it really was what I needed this morning."

"Thought so," I reply smiling. "You should always listen to your Barista, Dr. Jackson."

"And your Commanding Officer," Jack adds as he accepts a cup of drip coffee from me.

"Give it a rest, Jack," Daniel says tiredly as he pays for both of their drinks, and leaves me a healthy tip.

"Tell Kira we said hi," Jack says as he lightly steers his friend towards the front door. For all of Daniel's bravado, it's obvious that he isn't quite firing on all four cylinders right now.

"I will," I call back. I watch the retreating figures of Colonel Sumptuous and Professor Yummy and let out an audible sigh.

It just isn't fair that they're straight.

* * *

**More Author's Notes:** EG Hope you enjoyed that one. I had a lot of fun writing from Stefan's view point and hope it wasn't too over the top. Then again, this _is_ Stefan we're talking about! New Barista in less than a week! Don't 'cha love vacations? 

Completed December 13, 2004


	36. Putt Putt

**Title:** Barista 36 -- Putt-putt  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** 0409- Scorched Earth  
**Category** Gen, Humor, Angst  
**Rating:** PG

**Author's Notes**: Always in search of creative storytelling, I'm doing this Barista a little different (a la 'Eavesdropping). Kira and her unique take on our favorite team will return in the next vignette. Tis another funny one kids. No snorting loudly at work now, ok?

* * *

**:: Jack ::**

"Jack, quit staring," Daniel says, whacking me with his club.

"I'm not staring."

"You _are_ staring."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not"

"Too."

"That is enough," Teal'c commands the both of us. Both Daniel and I instantly shut up; we have worked alongside Teal'c far too long not too. Although, he really has lost a bit of his edge- dressed up as he is in plaid golf pants and a starched white polo shirt. Never should have loaned him those PGA tournament tapes after our little impromptu golf game in the gateroom...

"Sorry, T'," I reply, muttering an "am not" under my breath. Daniel doesn't look amused; but then again, Daniel hasn't been "amused" with me in nearly a week. This is of course why I dragged SG-1 to this putt-putt course in the first place.

Nothing says team building like miniature golf.

I have to admit it wasn't easy getting all of them to come out here. As much as Carter would follow me to the ends of the world (or worlds) as a soldier, she pretty much does whatever she wants off the clock. 'With all due respect Sir....' Yeah, yeah Carter, I get it - you would much rather ride with Hell's Angels than spend time with SG-1 on down time. What she sees in greasy bikes, I'll never know...

Teal'c can always be counted on to try something new _if_ he is convinced we aren't just pulling his leg or something. I think we might have done that once too often during his first year on Earth, so now he seldom agrees to do anything offbase without a guarantee from a neutral third party (usually Ferretti) that it'll be fun or interesting. I swear I'm going to get him to a mud-wrestling match yet...

And then there's Daniel.... Before I can brood too much about the sorry state of my friendship with Daniel, I spy Carter lurking behind Teal'c. She's trying her best not to show amusement (or maybe annoyance) with Daniel and me. I'd call her on that really poor attempt at hiding her smirk (insubordination, of course) except it's nice to actually see her smile. Hell, I'm just glad she's talking to me again. It was freaky having both Daniel and Sam give me the silent treatment this last week.

Not only do I have Daniel upset at me for choosing the Enkarans over the Gadmeer, but Carter is still smarting after being ordered by yours truly to build a naquadah bomb. A naquadah bomb that I purposefully detonated, on a ship that contained one Daniel Jackson.

It was not my finest moment.

"We really should help her you know," I say, as I sneak another glance in Kira's direction. Carter positions her green ball to play.

"Jack, she's on a _date_!" Daniel says irritated.

"A piss-poor one by the looks of it!" I shout back. I know I shouldn't be yelling at Daniel, but I just can't help myself. I've watched Kira struggle valiantly now for twenty minutes (the guy she's "with" keeps wandering off to apparently chat with other women). If she is supposed to be one a date with that nimrod of a guy, then I'd be doing her a favor by breaking it up.

"How do _you_ know that?" Daniel shoots back at me. "Have you _asked_ Kira? _Talked_ with her? Maybe tried to find out a little more about _what_ she's doing?"

I open my mouth to reply (although I'm not quite sure what I can say out here in the open), when Carter comes between us.

"Sir, it's your turn." Daniel just looks at me expectantly as I stomp off towards the start of Hole 2.

I want to stay mad. Mad at Daniel; mad at the jerk of a guy who is ignoring Kira; mad at me - but I can't.

At least not at the moment.

For standing right smack in front of me is none other than an overly tall and glitzy Glinda the Good Witch. I can't help but break into a grin.

Cassie had told me about this place a few weeks ago, and I had been dying to take her (or anyone who'd go with me) ever since. What are the odds that someone out there would open a Wizard of Oz themed miniature golf course?

Someone out there (besides Thor) likes me.

I position myself in front of Glinda and take a moment to figure out how I'm going to bank my ball off of the dip on the left and past her moving wand and onto the yellow brick road. If the wand catches my ball, it'll shoot it all the way back to the starting point. I have three putts - piece of cake.

Four putts later I give Daniel a nod. Damn ruby slippers blocking the way...

**:: Sam ::**

Much to the Colonel's dismay, Daniel makes it past Glinda in just two strokes. I write down his score on the card and give Teal'c a nod that it is his turn. I almost feel sorry for the Colonel, but then I think about what he put me though last week. 'Sorry' is not exactly an accurate description as to what I'm feeling at the moment. What the hell was I thinking, building that bomb..? Sometimes, I truly despise the solider I have become.

"MajorCarter," Teal'c asks, placing his red ball at the start of hole three and looking quizzically at the painted yellow tiles and the stuffed straw scarecrow. "Didn't you tell me that O'Neill's fascination with the 'Wizard of Oz' was.." He pauses in search of the right word. "Unique?"

I will not blush.  
I will not blush.  
I will not blush.

"What exactly did you tell Teal'c, Carter?" The Colonel asks doing a freakishly good impression of the Jaffa by raising a solitary eyebrow. Damn. He must have been practicing that on one. Probably during all that looping a few weeks ago.

"Only that not everyone on Earth has the same appreciation for the film as you, sir." I'm honestly not making fun of the Colonel. Well not maliciously that is. I have never worked with anyone I respect more, but let's face it - Jack O'Neill's fondness for the 1939 classic is a rather peculiar foible.

For a straight man.

"Carter?" The Colonel looks at me in such a pointed way that I _swear_ he knows exactly what I'm thinking.

"Colonel O'Neill's partiality of the film is distinctive, Teal'c." I say finally, smiling a little. "But it isn't so unusual for miniature golf courses to have themes such as this one."

"I do not recall 'Tiger Woods' playing golf on a course such as this, or with a _stick_.."

"Club, Teal'c," Colonel O'Neill says absently already distracted by Kira being once again left alone. I have to admit, I'm starting to wonder if we shouldn't rescue her as well. Daniel however is thinking something completely different. He notices the Colonel looking (once again) Kira's way, and becomes noticeably upset.

"Jack, would you _stop_ spying on her!"

"Daniel, I am _not_ spying."

"You are."

"I'm.."

"Colonel!" I say loudly, interrupting what was certain to be yet another fight of one-liners. Daniel and the Colonel have oscillated between ignoring and yelling at one another ever since we returned from the new Enkaran home world on P5S-381. It doesn't take a rocket scientist (or an astrophysicist) to know why. "I need for you to hold this while I play." I hold out the score card and with a sigh, the Colonel takes it.

"Knock yourself out, Dorothy," the Colonel says with a flourish as he steps aside.

I really hate when he calls me that.

**:: Daniel ::**

I know Jack is trying, but I'm still not sure I'm ready for all of this. This, being Jack trying to make amends.

Jack being _nice_.

Jack not asking Sam to build a bomb that was going to destroy an innocent race of beings... I absently rub that growing furrow in the center of my head and once again shudder with the realization of how close I came to dying.

Again.

Only this time it would have been Jack who pulled the trigger. I can't help the small shudder that washes over me.

"He's trying Daniel," Sam says, nudging my shoulder as she catches me brooding.

"I know." And I do, too. I know Jack. I know that he was doing everything he possibly could to save the Enkarans.

I just wish he understood that I was too.

**:: Teal'c ::**

I am not certain if O'Neill was correct in bringing us to this place, but I understand his need to "set things right" between himself, MajorCarter and DanielJackson. I do not like seeing my friends at odds with one another.

"I'm going to talk with her," O'Neill declares, after striking his ball into the representation of a field of poppies. This game is preposterously frivolous. Maybe it will be I who rescues KiraMeyers.

We had barely begun the game when DanielJackson noticed KiraMeyers several "holes" in front of us. She did not appear to be enjoying her game any more than I was.

"And tell her what, Jack?"

"Well, I could just say 'hi' or something," O'Neill answers. He glares at DanielJackson for a moment, but there is little malice behind his eyes. The two of them are equally uncomfortable and hurt. Perhaps this game will end up being the curative O'Neill hopes.

"Oh, I'm sure she'll just love that," DanielJackson answers setting his ball down and hitting it clear past the flowers and into "The Emerald City".

Or perhaps not.

**:: Kira ::**

I will never go on another double date again. Well, at least not a _blind_ double date.

"They seem to be having a nice time," James (my date) says to me as we watch Sylvia giggle once again, as John positions himself behind her to show her the proper stance for hitting a golf ball.

Puh-leeze. This is a _miniature_ golf course kids- keep the hanky panky for someplace private, ok?

I suppose I should be happy. At least James is actually back to speaking to me again. He vanished completely for two holes, and I later spied him back at the refreshment stand talking with one of the counter workers. Nice to know that my company is so scintillating that the guy prefers to talk to the chick selling ice cream bars.

I resist sighing, and just give James a weak smile as I grudgingly walk up to hole 8 and try to hit my ball past the "flying monkies".

This is so incredibly lame!

Although, I don't think I would be thinking that if I was actually having a good time.

Which I am not.

At all.

I finish my play (and note that I'm still ahead by two strokes) and motion for Uninteresting Guy (James) to go ahead and putt. Sylvia and John are up ahead in the Wicked Witch's Castle already starting to play.

With one another's lips.

I _so_ want to go home.

**:: Jack ::**

"That's it!" I shout, picking up my club like it's a hockey stick and slinging it across my shoulder. "I'm going in." Feels kinda weird saying that without the requisite, 'Cover me'.

"Jack, would you just leave the girl alone?" Daniel tries one last time. I swear he's only arguing with me to piss me off. After all, he likes Kira every bit as much as me and I know he's _nearly_ as protective of her as I am.

"Nope." I would think Daniel of all people would recognize when a fellow human being is in date distress.

"T', if I'm not back in five, play for me would ya?" I yell over my shoulder as I start towards hole 9. I notice that Kira and her guy have been left alone- if I squint, I think I can make out their companions up at the castle. I'm thinking those two aren't going to be finishing the game anytime soon.

Well, at least not the _golf_ game...

"Hi Kira!" I say loudly walking across the yellow brick road and onto hole eight.

"Colonel Jack!" Kira cries, as she turns around and gives me a smile that would light up a room. I _so_ made the right call in coming up here.

"How are ya doing?" I ask nonchalantly shooting a look at the idiotic suitor on her left.

"Good, good," Kira replies, shaking her head slightly and continuing to grin. Our little Barista is a smart girl; she _knows_ she's being rescued.

"Is Daniel with you?" She asks looking around the course.

"Yeah," I reply, trying not to let my happy-go-lucky facade slip. "He, Carter and Murray are back a ways," I say gesturing vaguely behind me. "They're trying to get through the field of poppies without falling asleep." Kira smiles.

"Where are my manners?" Kira says suddenly. "Colonel O'Neill, may I introduce James Melton."

"Howdy Jim," I say holding out a hand. I might already have determined that the guy shouldn't be allowed to procreate, but that doesn't mean one should be rude.

"James," the guy says flatly, shaking my hand with a weak wrist. Well, that just seals the deal. Any guy, who can't properly shake hands, doesn't deserve to live.

Kidding!

Well, sort of.

"So," I begin rocking back on my heels and shoving my hands into my Bermuda shorts. "You kids having fun?"

**:: Kira ::**

Am I having _fun_? Is he kidding? Actually, I know he knows that I'm not. The question is, does he have a plan for getting me away from here?

"Well, I'm winning.." I begin feebly holding out the scorecard.

"Only because that freaky wind pulled your ball into the tin man's oil can," James says quickly, scowling a little. I exhale slowly and count to two-and-a-half before opening my mouth to respond.

"So, Kira!" Jack says grinning, as he interrupts me. "Do you think I might be able to steal you away for a little bit? I know Daniel would love to see you." I am certain unadulterated gratitude is written all across my face.

"I think that would be all right," I say meeting Jack's eye and mouthing, 'thank you' as I turn back towards Uninteresting Guy. "James, how about if I meet you, John and Sylvia by the concession stand. Say in thirty minutes?"

"What about the game?" He whines.

"Why don't you go on ahead and play for all of us?" I suggest. "I know you'll be honest with recording the score.."

"Oh," James says smiling a little with realization. "I guess I can do that." The guy is so going to cheat.

"Bye!" I call back giving him a small wave. Good riddance to bad rubbish!

"Jack, I think I love you," I say to my rescuer, as I skip down the yellow brick road towards Daniel, Sam and Murray.

**:: Daniel ::**

We are just starting hole 6 when Jack returns leading a very exuberant Kira. Actually, it is Kira who is leading Jack.

"I was right, Danny-boy," Jack says gleefully swinging his club like a baton and heading towards Sam to check out the scores.

"Right about what?" Kira asks. I'd love to lie and totally make something up, but my heart isn't in it.

"Jack thought you needed rescuing," I explain.

"Hell, yeah!" Kira replies. She grimaces slightly as her use of swearing and offers me an apologetic shrug. "I wasn't having the best of times."

"Which I noticed from 100 yards away, I might add," Jack _adds_.

"Yes Jack, your powers of observation are completely unsurpassed," I reply snidely. The moment the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Yes, I am still angry with Jack, but that doesn't mean I need to air our "dirty laundry" in public. Maybe Kira won't notice...

"Why are you two fighting?" Kira says abruptly looking between Jack and I.

So much for not noticing.

Neither Jack nor I say anything, and Kira instantly goes from slightly worried, to full-out concern.

"Daniel?" She says turning towards me. "What did you do to Jack?"

Why is she looking at **me**? Jack's the guy with the trigger finger, not _me_! I want to tell her that it isn't _me_ she should be accusing, but before I can even begin to think of a non-classified way to explain all of this, Sam comes to our rescue.

**:: Sam ::**

"It's classified, Kira," I say solemnly. I can't believe I'm using the 'classified' line yet again. Poor Kira.

"Oh come **on**, Sam!" Kira replies back in frustration. "What's going on with all of you? I've been here less than five minutes and even I can see how you're walking on eggshells around one another. What did Daniel do?"

This is one observant young lady - it actually _was_ Daniel who started all of this.

Of course it was also Daniel who saved us as well.

"I found another way," Daniel starts.

"Another way to what?" Kira asks curiously.

"Another way to help some...people." People. People - aliens, it's all pretty much the same these days.

"At risk to yourself!" The Colonel reminds Daniel.

"Jack, contrary to what you might believe, I didn't go up there with the intent of disobeying you.."

"Or blowing yourself up?"

Uh oh. I need to stop this. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kira paling considerably.

"You were the one with his hand on the trigger," Daniel says angrily, pointing a finger at the Colonel.

"Guys," I say taking a step towards the arguing men.

"And you were the one who wouldn't get off the damn boat!"

"Stop it!" I shout.

"Please," Kira adds softly. Instantly the guys fall quiet.

**:: Kira ::**

Blowing himself up? Daniel nearly died? Again? And what's this about Jack actually pulling the trigger? I feel myself beginning to hyperventilate and look at my friends desperately for an explanation.

"Everything's fine, Kira," Daniel says softly giving me a gentle hug.

"Sorry we shouted," Jack adds contritely. Daniel releases me and I look at them both expectantly.

"What happened?" Jack sighs and puts his hands back in his pockets. Daniel rubs his forehead.

"There was a misunderstanding between two groups of settlers, Kira," Sam explains. "Both had every right to be there, but neither could share the land."

"Why?" I ask.

"Waaaay too complicated to explain," Jack says with a trace of humor. "Trust us when we say it was complicated."

"Ok," I nod. "So, what happened?" Jack's face clouds in memory and Daniel sighs.

"We had to try and think of some alternatives for everyone," Daniel explains.

"But it wasn't working," the Colonel continues.

"And we were running out of time," Sam adds. Murray is staying preternaturally silent in the background. I get the feeling he wants his friends to talk this through without him.

The trio is silent for several moments.

"In the end, Daniel saved the day," Jack says simply.

"Again," Sam adds.

"After nearly getting myself killed," Daniel concludes.

"Again," All three say simultaneously. I can't help the half laugh/half sob that escapes me. What the _hell_ do these guys do?!

Apparently whatever pall that had been hanging over all of them had lifted. Jack roughly pulls Daniel towards him and hugs his friend hard.

"You did what you needed to do, Jack." Daniel whispers.

"And you did what you needed to do," Jack adds. He sighs, as he releases his friend. "But could we _please_ try and not have them be mutually exclusive next time?"

"I'm not planning on there being a next time, Jack."

"Ah, but there always is, Space monkey," Jack declares, shaking his head in wry humour. "There always is."

**:: Jack ::**

So after Daniel and I had our Hallmark moment, the rest of the game actually ended up being quite fun. Kira helped all of us out on our putting, and in the end Teal'c won by a single stroke.

I'm really not one to have emotional outbursts in public (yeah, that's an understatement O'Neill), but this time, I think being in public might have helped Daniel and I.

Maybe.

Or maybe it had something to do with being surrounded by fake yellow bricks and honkin' large statues from the best movie ever made.

* * *

**More Author's Notes**: You're smiling right? I'm going for jaw-splitting smile here... Yeah, the ending was a little cheesy - but _I'm_ cheesy. And so is O'Neill for that matter. Hope you enjoyed. I don't celebrate Christmas, so I won't be getting any gifts this weekend. But you _could_ make it up to me by reviewing... EG

* * *

Completed December 21, 2004 


	37. The Messenger

**Title:** Barista 37 -- The Messenger  
**Season:** place during/after 0410  Beneath the Surface  
**Spoilers:** (slight) Barista 32  Epiphany; 0320  Maternal Instinct  
**Category** Gen  
**Rating:** PG

**Author's Notes:** I drop hints in this one. I know  Im as bad as Frankenstein, messing around with Kira like this. Sorry!

Heh. A little.

* * *

I check my watch for the third time in twenty minutes and sigh. There was just no denying it – Daniel was late. And not just, "Sorry Kira, I got wrapped up in a project" late. 

He was **late. **

Daniel has been helping me out on thorny translating assignments and editing history papers for me for almost two years now. At times, I just wish I could touch that brain of his, and absorb what he knows through osmosis (yeah, he's **that **smart), but Daniel is also a good teacher. He asks just the right questions, and basically turns everything around so that _I'm_ the one doing all the work (very sneaky), even though _he's _the one who knows the answer. I'll bet you money he's taught at a university somewhere…

Absently I start humming that funny Christmas song about Kris Kringle and putting one foot in front of the other. Haven't a clue why that odd ditty came into my head. Considering the fact that summer isn't even over yet (Labor Day is next weekend); I am forced to reach no other conclusion than I've gone completely bonkers.

Hey! It's been known to happen. After all, what _sane, rational_ woman spends her well-earned scholastic break trying to work out a Sumerian riddle? I'm just having the darndest time getting the difference between the prefix "mu-", (the animate one) and the prefix "ba-" (the inanimate one). This really should be straight-forward, but for some reason…

I look at my watch again and frown. Twenty-five minutes now.

I don't know why I'm so concerned. Daniel has been late before. Actually, he's late a lot. And there have even been times when he hasn't even shown up at all! I wonder if he does that with Jack? Or is he the perfect not-really-military-I-just-work-with-them genius up at that mountain? I shake my head trying to dispel the image of Daniel with a gun. Boy, does that just seem _wrong_!

Daniel may be late a fair amount, but he has always given me a heads-up if he knows he might be out of town or something. We exchanged cell phone numbers last year - much to my mother's considerable glee I might add. I loaned her my phone one afternoon and she proceeded (in true motherly-fashion) to "accidentally" nose around in my phone book. She immediately glommed onto Daniel's name (it was the only non-family member she didn't recognize) and now keeps calling him my mystery boyfriend. I've thought about trying to explain who he actually is, but I kind of like the idea of having a mystery guy. It keeps mom from continually asking when I'm going to find a nice boy and settle down. Jewish mothers…

I look at my watch again; only three minutes have passed.

If Daniel knows he's going to be running late, he usually gives me a call, or sends me an email. If he thinks he's going to be out of town, he likes to give me a head's up on the off chance that he might be delayed. Again, he does this **a lot. **Not that we meet up a lot or anything (maybe two or three times a term), but if there is just a _slight _possibility that he might not make our meeting… Let's just say, that sometimes I get a one-line email telling me he's out of town, and the very next day a much more leisurely email telling me he's back and he'll see me next week. Geeze Daniel! He seriously needs to take a course in time management or something. A trip to Denver or Cheyenne is _not _(unless it's mid-winter) usually going to result in being late to a meeting with me the following _week_! Obviously some of these business trips are pretty close to town, so why does he even bother?

Once, Daniel even sent Jack to track me down at the café where we usually meet. I had forgotten my phone, and Daniel apparently was recovering from "bad dreams" or something like that, and didn't feel up to going out. Jack was sent out to explain everything to me. This consisted mainly of, "Daniel isn't feeling well. Bad dreams", and the eating of pie. I smile at the memory.

And then frown. Where _was _he?

I stare hopefully at the front door, and will Daniel to walk through it.

He doesn't.

However, someone else _does. _I haven't a clue who he is, but there's a definite military air about him (the starched white shirt with the blue shoulder thingies gives him away). He looks around the room like he's searching for someone in particular. I look at my watch.

It's now 3:**30**. I bite my lip and wonder how much longer I should wait.

"Excuse me miss," the military guy say kindly, stopping at my table. "Are you Kira Meyers?" Instantly my blood runs cold. I never actually understood that phrase before now.

"Yeah, that's me," I reply cautiously. With my eyes I tell him it's okay to sit down. I don't know who this guy is yet, but he has this very gentle air about him that quickly puts me at ease.

At least about _him_ that is; the fact that he's here and not Daniel has me **very **worried.

"My name is George Hammond," he says introducing himself. "General George Hammond." I know I should be impressed that he's a general, but right now I'm just worried about my friends.

"You work with Daniel and Colonel Jack, don't you?" Colonel Jack. It's funny how we tend to go back to diminutives and nicknames when we're feeling vulnerable.

"I do," he answers nodding. I just look at him with fearful eyes and wait.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm here, aren't you?" Well, **duh.**

"I'm kinda hoping it's to tell me about a promotion for Jack or Sam," I pause and look at him expectantly. Ever so slightly, the general shakes his head. "Or maybe," I continue grabbing onto the first thought that pops into my head, "Daniel won some sort of civilian medal for discovering some cool archaeological find deep inside a meteor or something." I can't think what else could have Daniel so enthralled up there in 'Deep Space Telemetry'. Sure, Daniel has told me that he does translations and the occasional archaeological dig for the military, but that doesn't really explain much.

The general gives me one of those looks I've noticed Jack give me before; a cross between enigmatic and incredulous. What can I say? I do have an active imagination.

"Not this time, Ms. Meyers," the general says with a touch of humour.

"Why are you here?" I ask cutting to the chase.

The general sighs. "Colonel Jack O'Neill and his team are missing," he states.

"Just missing?" I repeat. Missing is _way_ better than dead.

"At this time, that's all I am prepared to accept," the general says firmly. I look into his eyes and for some reason begin to feel a bit better. This kindly-looking man who could probably play a passable Santa during the holidays (as long as someone gave him a wig and beard), honestly believes that my friends (and his too, I imagine) are "just missing".

I like this General George Hammond.

"How did you know I would be here waiting for Daniel?" I ask.

"Occasionally, a member of my command falls ill or is incapacitated in some manner that prevents them from doing their job. It has become standard procedure for assistants to go through the calendars and email of department heads to make sure there is nothing important that needs to be delegated to another team member."

"You went through Daniel's calendar?" I ask, a little wide-eyed. I might not know that much about the military, but I am pretty certain generals don't, as a rule, look through archaeologists' email and read their reports. The General gives me a soft smile and shakes his head.

"His assistant took a look at Dr. Jackson's calendar. He didn't understand what "Meet Kira – Diablo" meant and brought it to me to make certain it wasn't anything important."

"It wasn't anything important," I say shaking my head. I can't imagine meeting me at Café Diablo was something Daniel just _had_ to do.

"It **was** something important," the general corrects me. "This meeting was important enough for Dr. Jackson, that he recorded it both in his paper appointment book and his electronic calendar."

Wow. This surprises me. I mean, I knew Daniel considered me a friend, but it isn't _that_ big of a thing if he blew me off. I mean, not in the big scheme of things.

"How'd you know what it meant?" I ask.

The general laughs outright.

"Everyone in Dr. Jackson's sphere of influence knows you Ms. Meyers," the general explains. "It seems only your coffee is allowed to be brewed in Dr. Jackson's coffee pot." I can't help it – now it's my turn to laugh.

"It isn't like I actually _make_ the coffee you know," I explain. "Besides, it's Victor's coffee shop.."

"Doesn't matter," the general interrupts, shaking his head. "To the people under my command, it is _you_ who supply Daniel with the espresso he is so fond of. In fact," the General leans in almost as if he is telling me a secret. "On more than one occasion, we have sent Daniel a very special care package of your coffee." He smiles again as if this were really a big deal. I guess it wouldn't be too kosher to spend a hundred bucks to FedEx a pound of Victor's Sumatra-roast coffee to Egypt or someplace.

"I knew exactly what that message meant," the general concludes, eyeing my books and iced tea. "I just wanted to let you know where Dr. Jackson was myself."

"Where **is** Daniel?" Hey, it doesn't hurt to try, right?

The general shakes his head. "I can't tell you that Ms. Meyers," he says sadly. "But I can tell you we are doing everything we can to bring him home."

The general didn't stay long after that day nearly two weeks ago. He assured me he'd have Daniel give me a call or email after he returned, and I trusted him to give Daniel the message.

For a while, I was constantly on the lookout for Daniel, but after the first week or so, I became fearful and willed myself not to think about either him or Jack. I kept telling myself that the General would let me know if something truly unspeakable happened to my favorite guys.

Well, I told myself this anyhow.

Just when I was seriously considering tracking down the General Hammond's number, my fears were laid to rest. _Naturally_ it would be on a day when I was half-hidden behind the counter placing coffee bean orders. I might be facing away from the counter, but this doesn't always stop some folks from asking me questions.

Unfortunately.

"Excuse me Miss, do you have…" Oh, here we go again.

"Jonah.." Hey! I know that voice! I whip around just in time to see Daniel looking a bit sheepish at Jack.

"Jack," Jack says absently back at Daniel.

"Jack!" I shout, dropping my clipboard and running around the counter. I throw my arms around him and give him a big hug. "You've been found!"

"I was lost?" he replies, smiling as he returns my hug.

"You were lost," I answer in a muffled voice. It is so good to have them back!

"Hey, no hogging my barista!" Daniel says, taking Jack's place and giving me another hug. Wow. If it wasn't for the fact that these guys had me worried to tears, I could get used to this. "How've you been, Kira?"

"Better now," I reply reaching up on my tiptoes and giving Daniel a kiss on the cheek.

"Sorry about that," Daniel says contritely. "I'm afraid it could not have been helped."

"Well, it _could _have been helped," Jack adds, once again supplying me with information without really telling me a damn thing. "But I'm afraid we didn't have much of a say in things."

"Well, you're back now, and that's all that matters!" I say in return. We stand there smiling stupidly at one another for several seconds. I stare at my guys for a few seconds and realize that wherever they were, there must have been a gym or something. Both Daniel and Jack look like they've buffed up a bit.

Especially Daniel.

It really is a good thing that I've _completely _gotten over my crush on him. Absently, I wonder if he has a girlfriend. They seem to notice my starring and I instantly begin to blush.

"What?" I ask, trying to regain control. "You've been gone for three weeks, can't a girl stare a little?"

"You were looking at my chest, Kira," Daniel says teasing.

"Hey don't knock it, Danny," Jack replies. "It's better then checking out your ass."

"Jack!" Daniel and I say in unison.

"I'm just saying," Jack says shrugging. "We're meeting Thera and Murray for dinner in a few minutes, but we wanted to stop by and say howdy first." Thera? Who's Thera? Judging by how casual Jack seems to be just standing there, he must think I should know who this Thera person is. Next to him, Daniel looks like he swallowed a live toad or something.

"Thera?" I ask aloud.

"Friend of the family," Daniel says quickly glancing worriedly at Jack. Jack in return frowns and lets out an exasperated sigh as his shoulders seem to sag a bit.

"Friend of the family," he repeats sullenly. Whoa. Talk about a mood breaker.

"We really need to be going, Kira," Daniel says a little too quickly. "It was great seeing you!" He leans down and gives me another hug. Heh. I've gotten so many Daniel hugs that I've now officially lost count. Sweet!

"I'm really glad you stopped by," I say to them as I walk them to the front door. "Say hi to Sam for me, okay?" I ask.

"Sam," Jack repeats almost to himself. He seems to shake his head a bit and then shoots me a quick smile. "We'll definitely tell Carter you said 'hi'," he says.

"Take care of yourselves and try not to go 'missing' anytime soon, all right?"

"Next time I promise _not_ to ask for a demonstration," Jack says mysteriously.

"Jack!" Daniel chastises as they walk outside.

"I'm just saying…"

I smile to myself as I head back to work. It's good to have my friends home.

* * *

** Author's Notes:** I know – very sneaky. Author's are just horrible for dropping hints.... You realize, it's just going to get worse, right? Please let me know what you thought of my General Hammond inclusion! 

I apologize in advance for what is certain to be sporadic postings of the next couple Barista chapters. If I could just squeeze out a couple more hours in the day, I'd merrily post nearly every week! But as it stands, I now have both school and a new job competing for my attention. Plus a _very, very _odd little something that will probably make its way into a Barista story one of these days. -- Foreshadowing! Kira won't experience this until Season 5, but what I'm going through **now **she's going to deal with 'next year'. Heh. You'll never, _ever _believe me so there's no WAY you're gonna guess. You're welcome to try though!

PS. I have a new website! wwwdotdietcokechicdotcom slash stargate. Pretty darn easy, eh?

Noam Chomsky – Professor of Linguistics at MIT. Famous for his views on syntax, semantics, and the philosophy of language.

* * *

Completed January 8, 2005 


	38. Serendipity

**Title:** Barista 38 - Serendipity  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** 0413- The Curse  
**Category** Gen, Humor  
**Rating:** PG

**Notes:** Apologies once again for taking so long to post - I literally started this series the week I applied to graduate school, and I have a funny feeling it will finish about the time I get my degree. Tough quarter, I'm afraid. Now, no panicking - I'm taking the s l o w route for this darn degree of mine. ;

This one is extra long, and dedicated to everyone who wanted more Daniel and Kira. Susan, the knitting reference is for _you! _Apologies for the formatting glitch earlier. This has to be the first time it looked beautiful in Firefox (the BEST browser in the whole world) and not in IE. I'll double check next time. SorRy!

* * *

Are we there yet? 

I catch myself looking out the window for the umpteenth time and sigh. Absently, I grab another couple of ice cubes from the near-empty plastic cup on the table in front of me and pop them into my mouth. I draw a vague kind of solace from crunching my ice cubes loudly. I look up at the assorted lights and dials above my head and wonder if they glow in the dark.

Geeze, I'm bored.

Listlessly, I pick up one of my textbooks and randomly thumb through the pages. This is the problem with large, academic texts: no pictures. Normally these things don't faze me, but today..? Never before has history seemed so boring. I know! Complete sacrilege on my part. Maybe if I were studying ancient aviators instead of _astronomers_… I sigh again as I close the book, and toss it back inside my backpack. Let's face it - life at 30,000 feet is just not that exciting. Now maybe if I were _flying_ the airplane…

I smile at the notion, and absently wonder if Jack or Sam knows how to fly. I mean, they're Air Force, right? Of course, they can fly! Wonder if they can do any of those sweet air tricks like the Thunderbirds do? That would be so cool!

I look at my watch and discover to my dismay that only 45 minutes have passed since we left Denver. So not fair! I've actually been on this airplane for nearly **three hours**, and all I have to show for it is 45 minutes of air time? Someone up there definitely doesn't like me.

First we were delayed due to a luggage conveyer belt malfunction; then the emergency light came on for no reason and we had to have it repaired before they would allow us to taxi on the runway. And just when we were about to pull away from the gate, we got word that a VIP of some kind was on his way, and we needed to wait just a little while longer. 35 minutes longer, I might add.

And to make matters worse - I'm hungry. Idly I wonder if first class gets any lunch on flights like this. I'm dressed somewhat nicely-maybe I can sweet talk them into an apple or something. Normally the 2 hour, 40 minute flight doesn't serve food for us plebes, and it has been ages since my last pack of peanuts. I study my hands for a few seconds and wish I had brought a deck of cards or something. Maybe some string? Cat's cradle would have entertained me for at least a few minutes. I _so_ need to take up knitting! It might not make my stomach any happier, but it sure would give my fingers something to do. I crane my neck and look down the aisle to see if there are any flight folk or beverage carts in sight.

Completely devoid of human life. Well, isn't this just ducky? I refuse to sigh again, and look back down at my crushed Diet Coke can and empty bag of peanuts.

Are we there yet?

* * *

Deciding that enough is enough I stuff my now-empty (and slightly cracked) cup into the seat pocket and fold my table back up into the upright and locking position. I politely excuse myself and take to the streets. 

I mean aisles.

I have no real destination; I just need to get up for a bit. Sitting still isn't one of my better traits. First I head to the back of the plane, but a line seems to have formed around the two small bathrooms and to be honest, I actually do need to go. I see they have begun stocking the beverage cart, so I decide to risk heading up to first class. I'm hoping I can use their gild-plated johns before the flight crew makes it up to my seat.

No. I don't know for a _fact_ that their bathrooms are ultra-posh-I'm just supposing here.

Have I mentioned that I'm bored?

I successfully sneak through the closed curtains and make my way past the rich and famous towards the bathrooms. For just 25,000 airline miles, I too could have upgraded to leather seats and genuine cutlery. I eye their honey-glazed cashews with desire.

Have I mentioned that I'm hungry?

I poke my head around the corner of the galley in search of a stray package of nuts or something.

"Miss, you can't be here," a voice says from behind.

_D'oh!_

"Um, I was just looking for..."

"This is _business_ class," the flight attendant sternly tells me, as she motions me to move out of her area.

"I know that," I begin. And I do too. I just wanted to see if this would work. I hear the rustle of someone coming up behind me, but pay it little concern. I am too busy concentrating on trying to sweet talk my way back to the economy cabin _with_ a bag of nuts. "I'm just looking for…"

"Kira," I whip my head around and gape at the owner of a voice I know so well.

"Daniel" No _way_! I mean, it was odd enough running into him in Seattle-but on an **airplane** bound for **Chicago.**

"Do you know this woman, sir?" The flight attendant asks. I think she is a little put out that I appear to have been rescued. Probably looking forward to sending me back to the masses.

"Maybe a little," Daniel replies smiling.

"Daniel," I cajole, giving him my best "Rescue me" look.

"You don't mind if I take my friend back to my seat with me, do you?" Daniel asks. The flight attendant opens up her mouth with what I'm certain would have been a denial, but Daniel beats her to the punch.

"The seat beside me is empty, and I'm sure my friend here won't cause any problems." Uh uh! Not me! I resist grinning at Daniel. Best to wait until I have my seat first.

"Fine," the flight attendant replies, sounding more than a little annoyed. "Go have a seat, miss." She is totally doing her job here, so I don't take it personally.

"Thanks," I reply gratefully. "You wouldn't by chance have an extra bag of nuts hanging around would you.."

* * *

Two package of nuts and a Diet Coke later, I'm happily seated next to Daniel. Who, I might add is looking particularly nice. 

And when I say nice, I mean drop-dead gorgeous. Daniel Jackson, archaeologist, linguist and occasional trouble-magnet, is dressed in a swanky suit that probably cost more than my tuition this quarter. At the very least, the same as the cost of this historical conference I'm attending; it's a really nice suit.

Have I mentioned how nice Daniel looks in suits?

"You're lucky I came along," Daniel begins as I take my eyes off his suit and rip open my prized booty. "Otherwise, you might have starved to death or something." I know he's making fun of me, but frankly, I don't really care right now.

I did say I was hungry.

"I'm hungry," I reply in a muffled voice, as I stuff an overly large handful of nuts into my mouth. Happily, I savor the salt and fat. Sustenance. "You've been on this plane as long as I have," I continue, swallowing the nuts and taking a large, satisfying drink of my soda (served in a glass tumbler, I might add). "You know how long we've been stuck out here without food or water."

Daniel wrinkles his forehead in confusion. "Kira, are you hypoglycemic or something?" he asks seriously. "We only took off 45 minutes late."

"What are you talking about, Daniel?" I reply staring at him with b. "We took off nearly three hours after we boarded."

"Um, really?"

"What do you mean really?" The lack of food must be starting to affect me. How could Daniel not realize how long we lingered on that runway? I mean, I know he can be absent-minded at times, but come on! It isn't like there are some enthralling translations to work on out here.

"Um…" Daniel begins uncomfortably. "I only waited 45 minutes."

"**You** were our VIP?" I ask incredulously. Holy crap! I mean, I know that Daniel is important to Jack and the folks he works with, but to have the power to hold up a _jetliner_? That's some heavy-duty mojo!

I continue to stare at Daniel in shock as I gulp down my soda and contemplate what all of this means.

"Daniel, you have the power to alter flight traffic," Ifinally say. I had a cousin who worked as an air flight controller at Dulles-I have some idea of how difficult it is to delay an airplane for a single passenger. Usually, they just ask the individual to wait until the next flight.

Daniel has the good grace to look a little embarrassed. "I was told this was the next flight to Chicago."

"It _was_ the next flight for Chicago," I explain. "But we were already two hours late."

"Dammit, Jack!" Daniel mutters, turning red. "If it turns out you wanted me on this flight for the frequent flyer miles.."

"What!" I shout. Well maybe not _shout_, but I do raise my voice. Daniel looks apologetic.

"I only found out this morning that a professor and mentor of mine had passed away," Daniel begins.

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely.

"Thanks," Daniel says giving me a small smile. "I hadn't actually talked to Dr. Jordan in years, but he really did teach me a lot." Daniel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts. "I read about the accident that killed him in one of those tabloid newspapers, and when I researched the details, I discovered that the funeral was going to be held today."

"Hence, the suit," Isay, giving him a good-natured leer. At least I hoped it looks innocent.

"Hence the suit," Daniel agrees nodding. "Sam helped pick this out for me earlier this year."

"Sam has good taste." That's about as far as I'll go in letting Daniel know how good he looks. At least to his face.

"I'll make sure to tell her."

I need to get the topic off of Daniel and his fabulous-looking suit. "So you found out about the funeral today and had to make a lot of last-minute arrangements.."

"I needed to head home and pack, so Jack said he would get me on the next plane and make sure I have a car rental and all of that in Chicago," Daniel explains. "The funeral is at 1 PM." A look of sadness passes over his face.

"I'm sure this really was the first available flight, Daniel."

"I'd like to think Jack didn't pull strings in order to hold up an entire airplane for me.." Daniel starts.

"Although it would be something I'd see Jack doing," I admit. I don't have a clue _how_ he'd do it. But Colonel Jack O'Neill doesn't strike me as the type of guy who waits for things to happen.

"That's what I'm afraid of,"he admits. Daniel turns to me and grins, "This is my first flight in business class."

"Mine, too!"

* * *

A few minutes later _both_ Daniel and I get served lunch. Guess whatever strings Jack pulled to get Daniel into Business Class, also extended to his wayward companion.Sweet! 

"So Kira, why are you on this flight?" Daniel asks.

"I won a scholarship to attend the AHA Conference in Chicago," Ireply proudly. I've never been to a conference before.

"American Historical Association."

"Uh huh," I nod. There's a special presentation by AAH..." I look over and see Daniel nodding.

"Association of Ancient Historians," he fills in automatically. Guess Daniel does know the acronym lingo.

"Yep," I say, nodding again. "AAH will be sponsoring an exhibit on maps of the old world, as well as doing a panel discussion on fostering international cooperation amongst antiquities museums and research universities."

"You want to do historical research?" Daniel asks.

I shrug. "I still don't know exactly what I want to do with this degree of mine, Daniel," I begin. "But I do know I want to do something a little different."

"Different," Daniel repeats, smiling to himself.

"Don't laugh at me, Daniel," Iremark a little too sharply. I'm hearing it enough from my parents. If I were standing, I'd be putting my hands on my hips about now.

"I'm not laughing, Kira," Daniel insists.

"Really?"

"Really." Daniel chuckles wryly and shakes his head a little. "I was only smiling because you sounded a bit like I did ten years ago," he explains.

"What were you working on ten years ago?" I ask. I know Daniel has all sorts of secrets about what he does now, but maybe he's not so secretive about the past.

"I was Dr. Jordan's archaeology assistant actually," Daniel explains. "I had all these crazy ideas…"

"You mean about the Egyptian pyramids being built a few thousand years before they were supposed to?" If we weren't in an airplane, I swear Daniel would have leapt from his seat in astonishment.

"You know about that?"

I shrug. "I googled you, Daniel," I explain. "I found a reference to a conference you talked at back in 1994 or 95."

"Google." Daniel repeats, not sounding like he understands.

"It's a slick new search engine," I explain. I had been a beta-tester of Google two years ago, and now used the search engine exclusively.

"I never even considered that," Daniel says to himself.

"Considered what?" I ask.

"The Internet," he says simply. "How long have you known about my being the laughingstock of the archaeological world?" There's a fair amount of bitterness in his voice, but it's tempered with something else I can't quite figure out.

"All I could find on you Daniel," I say honestly"was some random snippets of information about how brilliant you are.." Daniel blushes a little at this. "And an interview from a guy who attended a conference you gave back in the mid-90s."

"That's it?" He asks.

"That's it," I confirm. "You pretty much dropped off the face of the earth after 1995-I never found out what you were working on after that. I figured you gave the talk, got embarrassed, went to Egypt, met your wife and then, eventually, came back to the States and became Mystery Archaeology man with Jack." I'm totally fishing here. Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky.

"Something like that," Daniel says enigmatically. Arrgggh! So much for finding out more. I actually have googled Daniel three or four times since that first attempt at looking for him using Yahoo's search engine. Nothing new showed up on Yahoo or AltaVista or even HotBot! One of these days…

"I think you'd make a great researcher, Kira." Way to change the subject, Daniel!

"Maybe," I concede. "All I know is that I don't want to just do static research. You know, one of those historical projects that gathers data for the purpose of discovering what year exactly men started wearing pants." Daniel lets out a short laugh.

"What?" The prospect of discovering when men decided to wear pants makes Daniel laugh?

"I just know a couple of guys who still don't like to wear pants," Daniel explains.

"Well that's odd." There aren't a lot of men who wear kilts these days, but there are a few. I think Daniel is also trained as an anthropologist as well, so I bet he knows a lot of non-Westerners.

"What kind of research do you want to do?" Daniel asks with interest.

I consider the question seriously. "I just need to have some sort of goal or something, Daniel," I begin. "I honestly don't need for it to be something as lofty as saving the world from AIDS or anything, but I need to have a goal." I give Daniel a sideways glance. "Do I sound totally ridiculous?" I might not care if my parents thought I was an idealistic dreamer, but if Daniel did as well… well, maybe I might reconsider my options.

"You don't sound ridiculous, Kira," Daniel replies seriously. "And I bet you'll find the perfect project one day. Who knows? You might find something at that conference." There is absolutely nothing in Daniel's voice that should lead me to this conclusion, but I don't think he's hopeful I'm going to discover my perfect job this weekend.

The remaining hour on the flight passes quickly as Daniel and I chat about history and language. The more I talk to Daniel, the more I wish he were teaching somewhere. The man is just so damn smart, you know? It is an absolute pleasure talking with him.

We land, and Daniel sweetly offers to drive me to my hotel. I know he's on a tight schedule though (it's already noon) and politely decline. I feel guilty with the knowledge that I have never attended a funeral before. I can offer him no words of solace (as if there really are such things), and only give him another hug as we say goodbye.

* * *

It is nearly a week later when I see Daniel again. It was one of those brilliant sunny October days here in Colorado Springs, and Daniel walks into the coffee shop looking like something the cat dragged in. There's something just fundamentally wrong with the fact that he looked better on his way _to_ a funeral than he did _coming home_ from one. Once again he had that weird sunburned forehead thing going on and he looked, frankly, like crap. More of that 'weight of the world' air about him. 

"Hi Daniel," I say trying not to stare at his forehead. It was all red and blistery, and looked quite painful. How the hell does one go about getting a sunburn _only_ on the forehead?

"Hey Kira" Daniel greets me. "How was the conference"

"I think I was the youngest person there by several decades," I reply forlornly.

"That bad?" Daniel asks.

"Oh, it wasn't bad or anything-I just felt incredibly young and stupid."

"You're not stupid," Daniel corrects.

"I'm certainly young though," I insist. "I had several men tell me I reminded them of their granddaughters!" I knew they meant well, but I found it pretty offensive. I mean come ON! Where's the professionalism?

"The next one will be better," Daniel insists.

"Maybe." I look at Daniel critically. "Care to tell me what happened to you?" I ask lightly.

Daniel wraps his arms absently around his chest. "No, not really," he replies. It isn't just his body language that is saying 'Back Off'; there's something really sad about Daniel. I don't press it.

"Dr. Janet knows about your weird sunburn though, right?" I might not milk him for details, but if he's hiding things from Jack or Janet, I might become pushy.

Daniel gives me a slight smile. "Yes, Kira," he says in a slight sing-song voice. "Both Janet and Jack know about my sunburn."

"I'm just saying," I begin holding up my hands, "that it looks kinda painful."

"I'll be fine."

"I don't doubt that for a moment." Daniel smiles and orders a shockingly sweet triple tall macadamia nut almond mocha.

"Yowza!" I say in surprise. "What's with the drink, Daniel"

"Stefan turned me on to it a few weeks ago," Daniel replies in explanation.

"Turned you on, eh?" I repeat suggestively. I know exactly what he means, but I can't help but tease him just a little. Daniel turns bright red and I laugh. Teasing Daniel is soooo much fun!

"You know what I mean, Kira," Daniel says sounding put out.

"I'll just have to ask Stefan," I reply coquettishly, as I make him his drink.

"You do realize I'm injured already, don't you?" Danielaks in an attempt to make me stop out of sympathy.

"You said you were _fine_ Daniel," I reply sweetly. I hand him his drink and ring up the change. Despite the teasing, Daniel leaves me a healthy tip.

"I think I liked the hero-worship better," he grumbles good-naturedly as he gives me a slight wave and exits the store.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: All sorts of archaic references in this one! The stuff about Google and search engines is true. I've added yet another layer of understanding between Kira and Daniel, and although it might be obvious to us what's going on with Daniel, Kira really doesn't quite get it. Yet. Be patient... 

I'll do my darndest to post once more before the month is out. I am so sorry I haven't been emailing folks as often as I would like. I really, sincerely, appreciate all the wonderful feedback and encouragement you send me. It's been a rough month on the home front, and I just haven't had time to write everyone back. I will though. Promise!

Thunderbirds: Elite group ofAir Force pilots; they do amazing aerial stunts.

Cat's Cradle: string game.

Historical Association (AHA) was in Chicago in 2000!

Association of Ancient Historians: http:www.trentu.ca/ahc/aah/welcome.shtml

Completed February 6, 2005


	39. Recourse

**Title:** Barista 39 - Recourse  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** 0417- Absolute Power (I'm not kidding here - SPOILER)  
**Category** Shock and Awe  
**Rating:** R (just to be on the safe side - for language and adult images)

**Author's Notes:** There really isn't too much I can say here without giving the plot away. I will tell you this much - remember Breakfast at IHOPs and how I experimented with writing the story from Jack's POV? Or the series of letters I had Daniel and Kira write back and forth to one another in Letters From Egypt? Well, this story is like those. Only different. I thought it was time to once again try something different (you wouldn't want me to become stale now, would you?).

This story will not be written from either Kira's or SG-1's POV. Instead, I'm going to play story-writer and attempt a third person POV Barista story. This will seem a little strange, as you are going to miss being in any of the character's heads, and _because _you're not there, you aren't going to get all the underlying reasoning and nuance that you're used too. Be patient... All will be explained. ;>

_Note: Updated since 2/27._

* * *

The jarring sound of a 3.99 alarm clock woke Daniel from a very odd dream. Something about world domination? 

"I'll pay you to get a new alarm clock," a voice said sleepily, grabbing hold of Daniel's pillow and covering her face; she hated mornings.

"You say that every morning," Daniel replied, setting the alarm to snooze and freeing his pillow from his companion's face. She scowled and flopped an arm across her eyes - she wasn't quite ready to face the sunlight.

"I'm not here every morning."

"You're here most mornings," Daniel countered pulling the warm, supple body towards him. She had worn a dark blue silk slip to bed the night before and Daniel loved the way it draped across her hips. He ran a hand through her thick mass of dark curls, and began to nuzzle her neck, savoring her scent.

"Dan - iel!" she squealed, as his nose hit a particularly sensitive area. He liked the way she squirmed beneath him and made a mental note to remember that spot.

"What?" Daniel asked innocently, giving her neck tiny little butterfly kisses. He could feel her ineffective attempts to break free and savored the way her silky legs brushed up against his. He had yet to see her face, but Daniel was nothing if not patient.

"Stop that," she murmured, turning her neck ever so slightly to grant Daniel better access.

"Stop what?" Daniel whispered into her ear. The shiver that ran through her had nothing to do with the cold.

"You have to be at work in an hour," she whispered, pulling her arm away from her eyes. Daniel's sky-blue eyes gazed back at her heatedly.

"I could be a little late" Daniel said leaning down and giving her a bruising, heart-felt kiss.

She moaned softly against him and felt Daniel's smile. Damn the man and his kissing finesse! "I have work in an hour," she attempted half-heartedly. She knew the battle was already lost..

"I'll write you a note."

* * *

Forty-two minutes later the sound of the alarm was heard again. Daniel reached over and slapped it quiet. 

"Maybe I do need a new alarm clock," he admitted.

"Told you so," Kira replied as she rolled over her slightly sweaty lover and pulled the digital clock closer to her face. 6:42 AM.

"You need new contacts,' Daniel said trying not to be aroused (again) at the site of a very beautiful and naked young woman lying across his lap.

"Look who's talking," Kira countered giving Daniel a knowing look from across her shoulder. She had been trying for months to get him new eyewear. Daniel's glasses had to be nearly ten years old by now!

"I've had them updated!" Daniel replied hotly.

"Only the prescription, Daniel," Kira replied, flopping back onto the bed. "I think it's time you took the plunge and got new frames."

"I thought you liked my glasses."

"Daniel, you could be wearing black, horn-rimmed plastic monstrosities, and I would still think you're the sexiest man on Earth." It was true. She had known Daniel for nearly six years and had seen him at his very best and very worst - he was pretty damn easy on the eyes no matter what he wore.

"I knew I kept you around for a reason," Daniel said leaning over and giving Kira a chaste kiss before sitting up and swinging his feet down to the ground.

"And here I thought it was for my coffee grinding ability," Kira replied with a smile, as she sat up and hugged Daniel from behind.

"You know I could make a really crass comment from that" Daniel began, savoring the feel of Kira's body against his back.

"Just for that you can make your own coffee this morning," Kira said laughing, as she grabbed the clothes she had already laid out the night before and headed towards the bathroom to shower. As she shut the door behind her, Daniel heard her shout, "And no coming in after me!"

* * *

"Whoa!" Daniel gasped aloud as he instantly awoke back in the infirmary. "What the hell was _that_ all about?" He could still remember how he felt having Kira behind him. How he felt _kissing_ her. But that was impossible, right? I mean, she was just his _friend_ - the woman he occasionally mentored and got his coffee from. Right? He knew this was so and yet the vivid rightness of what he remembered 

"Dreams release burdens of pain," Shifu stated, appearing from nowhere.

"Shifu?" Daniel asked, looking at the serene young man before him. Shifu nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'm really confused here" He definitely was in the SGC's infirmary, but where were all the doctors and nurses? Where was Jack? And what the _heck_ was that dream/vision of Kira all about? Daniel blushed as his body unwittingly let him know how much it appreciated the dream.

"Lessons were learned, but pain remained." Daniel felt a headache coming on and really wished Shifu would just speak plain English. Humorlessly, Daniel realized that Jack probably felt the same way about him.

"That dream was anything but painful..," Daniel began. Shifu held up a hand and suddenly Daniel remembered.

He remembered everything.

* * *

"Don't you think it was strange you got through security with a loaded gun?" Daniel asked looking with disdain at his former friend. 

"A little," Jack replied in a resigned voice as he looked at his gun. He never really believed he would get the gun through security, but then again, he never imagined he would _ever_ even contemplate using it on his best friend.

"You never were that bright." Daniel's contemptuous reply cut through Jack more painfully than any knife ever could.

"No." In a perfect world, it would be Carter standing here next to Daniel. If anyone could give Daniel a run for his money in the smarts department, it was Sam Carter. But then again, it was somehow fitting in a macabre sort of way that it came down to him and Daniel.

It always came down to them.

Jack watched as several of the space weapons turned and focused their attention on one target.

"Daniel, think about one thing before you do this," Jack tried desperately. This had to be a bad dream - there was just no way Daniel Jackson was contemplating blowing up a city. "We never proved that kid was a Harcesis." Jack was grasping at straws and he knew it.

"What are you talking about?" Daniel asked absently, as he focused the majority of his attention on the screens in front of him. Jack O'Neill just wasn't worth his time.

"Everything he put in your head!" Jack argued vehemently. "The Goa'uld have used mind control before."

"You think this is some elaborate Goa'uld plot to get me to destroy the world?" Daniel took a moment to contemplate the notion.

"We've seen them use kids, too." Hell, they had seen the Goa'uld use every dirty trick in the book.

"They used Shifu to put a bunch of stuff into my head in order to get me to build the weapons, only to eventually turn them on Earth?" If Daniel didn't have other things on his mind, he might have considered the concept amusing.

"It's possible." Jack didn't really believe it and pretty certain Daniel didn't either.

"There's only one flaw in that theory," Daniel replied arrogantly. "You're assuming this is not what I wanted all along." Giving a signal, Daniel told his controller to fire when ready.

"Don't," Jack tried one last time. "Don't." With no weapon capable of stopping Daniel, Jack knew his words were useless - he was useless.

"System is firing," the controller reported.

Jack watched in horror as the energy flowed out of the satellite weapon and surgically fired, destroying Moscow.

Jack and Daniel locked gazes; one in shock and despair and the other with conceit and pride. Now that Moscow was out of the way, it was time to take care of Jack O'Neill

* * *

"Oh my God," Daniel choked, as the full memory of the Goa'uld knowledge came crashing back to him. He scrunched his eyes tightly trying to stop the assaulting images. Not the actual Goa'uld knowledge (thank God), but the memory of what he did. The evil he had become. 

"You asked for the knowledge," Shifu explained.

"_That_ was the knowledge?" Daniel repeated becoming more and more agitated. "I became a Goa'uld! I was evil!"

"This is the path that must be taken. Here lies the answer for the knowledge you seek."

"I blew up a city and was about to kill my best friend!" Daniel cried angrily. Suddenly the urge to become physically Ill was overpowering. Daniel threw off his covers, but before he could stumble out of bed towards the bathroom, he remembered Kira.

He remembered how he felt being with her. He remembered her caresses and kisses. The urge to be sick faded as the memory of her smile and laughter soothed his embittered psyche.

"He who has knowledge without learning has wings but no feet."

"You gave me the _memory_ of the knowledge of the Goa'uld to show how it might corrupt."

"Power corrupts," Shifu replied sagely.

"Power corrupts," Daniel agreed. The lesson had been learned.

"But why Kira?" he asked. This question made Shifu smile slightly.

"Pleasant dreams temper realities of the waking mind."

"But _Kira_?" Daniel asked. "She and I aren't even romantically involved!" Even as he protested, Daniel realized the ridiculousness of the situation. He was complaining about what really was a very nice dream, a dream given to him by a boy who appeared to be no older than ten.

"Your mind contained many images of women, including my mother."

"I would have preferred Sha're," Daniel replied honestly.

"Many images of beautiful women," Shifu continued. "But all had caused you pain and suffering."

"Not all" Daniel protested. No, maybe not all, but he had to admit his track record for the last four years wasn't so hot.

"Dreams can both teach and comfort," Shifu explained. "Lessons were learned, comfort was needed." Daniel mulled Shifu's words over. It was true that he was much calmer (for lack of a better word) with the horror that he experienced with the Goa'uld knowledge. He didn't doubt Shifu that some of this might be a result from vision number two. He just wished it hadn't been Kira

"You couldn't have chosen Sam?" He asked aloud. Instantly he regretted the outburst. Oh heavens, what was he thinking? No, no! Sam wouldn't have worked either. Still, he felt a little like a dirty old man having had that dream with Kira. He had _never_ thought of her in that way. Ever.

"Oma teaches that the true nature of a man is determined in the battle between his conscious mind and his subconscious and that the evil in my subconscious is too strong to resist. The only way to win is to deny it battle." Shifu gave Daniel another small nod and vanished. Daniel blinked and found himself back in the infirmary. Only this time he was surrounded by doctors and nurses.

* * *

Jack was antsy. One minute Shifu was strapped to that horrible Zanex machine, and the next, Daniel was standing there telling everyone that the kid was right - the knowledge of the Harcesis can't be shared and Shifu needed to be allowed to go home. 

Jack was okay with that.

What he wasn't okay with was Daniel.

"Can you tell me _why_ you feel the need to leave the mountain for a cup of coffee?" Jack asked, as he sat next to Daniel in the locker room. After Shifu had done his glowy-light thing, Daniel had been adamant about needing to head to Victor's. He wouldn't explain why he needed to get off base, but he insisted on going. Fraiser wouldn't let him go without an escort (there was that pesky matter of being coma-like for nearly six hours), so Jack volunteered to escort Daniel to wherever he needed to go.

And apparently it was for a cup of coffee.

"I prefer the coffee," Daniel said as he finished tying his shoes. He grabbed a jacket and without giving Jack a backwards glance, headed out the door. Jack sighed and followed his friend to the elevator.

"So tell me more about these dreams the kid gave you," Jack tried after waiting a respectable ten seconds. He never was too good with silences.

"I'd rather not," Daniel replied staring straight ahead. Jack sighed and shook him head. If there was one thing he had learned from hanging around Daniel these last four plus years, it was that he couldn't be bullied into talking. This was a great trait to have when interrogated, but pretty lousy if you were his friend and needed answers. Daniel would tell him about it when he was ready.

Silently they got into Jack's truck and drove into Colorado Springs. It had snowed the night before and everything was covered in four inches of fresh powder. Daniel stared out the window wondering just what the hell he was doing. It had just seemed so _right_ to head into town and see Kira, but now he wasn't so sure. What was the point? It was a dream. A dream Kira (hopefully) hadn't shared. The whole thing was just nuts...

"We're here," Jack said parking just down the street from the shop. He looked over at Daniel and wondered what he was thinking.

"You all right?"

"Not really," Daniel said shrugging.

"We can just head back to my place if you want. Watch a hockey game or something..." That actually sounded pretty good to Daniel, but he felt ridiculous having had Jack drive all this way (he lived on the opposite side of town) only to turn around.

"As long as we're here..." Sighing, Daniel got out of the car. He was just so _confused_!

"Good Morning Dr. Jackson, Colonel Jack," Stefan greeted the pair as they walked through the front door. "How are you doing on this fine Wednesday morning?" For a moment Daniel appeared confused (where was Kira?), but he quickly schooled his features.

"Hi Stefan," Daniel replied absently, looking around the shop. "Kira around?"

"Nope!" Stefan said giving Daniel a big grin.

"But its Wednesday," Daniel began. He suddenly turned towards Jack. "It is Wednesday, isn't it?" he asked in a lowered voice.

"Last I checked," Jack confirmed, glancing at his watch. The question really wasn't all that silly. Between gate lag and the assorted comings and goings at the SGC, it was really tough keeping track of what day of the week it was. On earth anyhow.

"Kira always works Wednesday mornings," Daniel explained, feeling a little more confident that he at least got the day of the week right.

"Not this Wednesday," Stefan said with a leer. He was just dying to tell someone, and although he seriously doubted Kira would approve, Dr. Yummy and Colonel Sumptuous here were going to be the first to learn.

"Explain," Jack said stepping in.

"Well," Stefan began, walking around the counter. "Last night Kira came into the shop right as I was closing up."

"So?" Daniel asked.

"SOShe appeared flustered and rather coy and wanted to know if I would take her opening shift tomorrow." He flashed Daniel and Jack a grin. "I told her no way." Before either Jack or Daniel could ask for more information, Stefan continued.

"She then took me aside and explained that _something_ had come up and she wouldn't be able to make it in tomorrow. She really needed me to fill in for her."

"What had come up?" Daniel asked. Stefan was just bursting to explain.

"I'm getting to that," he said waving his hands impatiently. "She looked flustered and rumpled and just not Kira like, ya know? I wanted to know why. Well.." He looked around the store to make sure no one was listening.

"She met a guy," Stefan announced.

"A guy?" This was from Jack. He was always suspicious of 'guys' and young girls. Oh, he knew Kira was a woman over the age of consent, but that didn't make him any less suspicious.

"Yep!" Stefan declared jubilantly. "A _guy_. And apparently this guy was taking her to Denver for dinner.

"Denver?" Daniel asked. "But that's nearly two hours away!"

"Uh huh," Stefan said wiggling his eyebrows up and down. "She didn't think she'd be back in time for her morning shift."

"Really?" Jack asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Yep." Stefan looks around the room again. "And she was _humming_."

"Humming?" Daniel asked.

"Yep."

"Do you know anything about the guy?" Jack asked.

"Oh, he's not an axe-wielding rapist if that's what you're worried about," Stefan assured them. "We've know Kyle for years - he's a good guy."

"Kyle?" Daniel asked. He'd never heard Kira mention a 'Kyle'. But then again, it wasn't like they talked about their personal lives that much.

"So she's not here," Jack concluded. He had no idea why Daniel needed to see Kira so badly (he had already figured it out the trip over was not for coffee), but for whatever reason, he did. However, she wasn't here and Jack didn't know what Daniel was thinking.

"She's with a boyfriend," Daniel said, sounding to Jack, rather relieved.

"Glad someone's getting some.." Stefan said forlornly. He'd broken up with his last boyfriend the month before and was feeling particularly down about the whole thing.

"So what did you need to see Kira about?" Stefan asked.

"UmI had an idea for a paper she might want to do," Daniel replied. Everyone knew he was lying.

"Uh huh." Stefan wondered what Daniel _really_ wanted. He'd have to mention this to Kira when she returned.

"Coffee?"

"I think we'll take a raincheck," Jack answered, glancing at Daniel and deciding he needed to take his friend home. Daniel didn't look like he was entirely tracking the conversation at the moment.

"Sure," Stefan said. He headed back to the counter.

"You ready to go, Daniel?" Jack asked

"What?" Daniel asked looking up at Jack. He had been entirely in his own universe.

"Let's blow this pop stand and rent a couple of movies."

"Yeah, that sounds good." They walked to the door in comfortable silence. Daniel was now abjectly _glad_ Kira hadn't been around, and Jack was just happy that Daniel seemed to be snapping back to his usual self.

"Humming?" Daniel asked, as they walked out of the store.

"New boyfriends are always hum-worthy," Jack explained sagely.

* * *

**More Author's Notes:** Please let me know what you thought of this one - I recognize that I _totally_ went out on a limb here. But, after re-watching the episode, I just thought that it was odd the way Daniel was so calm after seeing himself obliterate a major city. I needed a reason _why_. And me, being me, I _made_ a reason why! Please review. 

Thanks to Jeanne, Kath, Liz and Louise for their help on this one. Also to worldofquotes dot com for the Chinese and Latin proverbs that I gratuitously borrowed for Shifu, and StargateWiki for the transcript help.

Completed February 27, 2005


	40. Quarantine

**Title:** Barista 40 Quarantine  
**Season:** Season 4  
**Spoilers:** 0418- The Light  
**Category** Humor  
**Rating:** PG -13 (for Stefan-inspired innuendo)

**Author's Notes:** Crazy as it might seem, this is the last story of Season 4. I know many of you want to have some kind of confrontation/resolution between Kira and Daniel with regards to the ahem rather _interesting_ last story. However, it ain't going to happen - at least not how many of you would like. No pouting! I think you'll like this one nearly as much and it's long!

* * *

"You're doing it again, Kira," Stefan says with a grin. 

_Busted!_

"Doing what?" I ask innocently, as I add the chocolate syrup to the milk pitcher (premiere, high quality syrup, not the imitation chocolate "flavoring" most places use).

Stefan gives me a knowing look and starts _humming_ something ABBA'ish - I shoot him a dirty look and he gives me a friendly leer.

I'm still finding it hard to believe that I took last weekend off. Not only did I miss a Friday afternoon class, but I skipped out on work as well. Very unlike me. Sure, I had found a replacement (and of course it just had to be Stefan now, didn't it?), but the fact that I actually _did_ it is still a bit surprising.

Not that I have any regrets mind you.

I smile stupidly to myself (while consciously refraining from humming). I really had a good time with Kyle. (Understatement) I really never thought we would hook up. I mean, I met the guy over four years ago! Talk about a completely random occurrence...

Kyle was in his last year of school and working as a part time barista at Victors when I first met him. Oh, I always knew he was cute (everyone did) but I remember him seeming so much older than me. At 24, he just seemed soself possessed. And let's face it - at 19, I was anything but! My first week on the job, I heard all about Kyle and his various attributes (he has many!). All the female (and some of the male) baristas thought he was a _complete_ honey. A perfect 6 feet tall with shoulder-length dark hair and murky blue/green eyes - Kyle would have totally fit in as a Bard or something in medieval England. Every morning before his shift, he would go for a run and often come into work with his hair still wet.

Kyle looks really good with slightly damp hair.

Kyle still looks good with slightly damp hair. Even at the grand old age of 28.

We only worked together for a few months before he graduated and I lost track of him. Every now and then he would stop by the shop to chat (usually with Stefan), but we never said more than a few basic pleasantries. That is until I started taking this ridiculously difficult astronomy course and realized I needed a tutor in order to actually pass it. For some completely ludicrous reason, I thought having a better understanding of astronomy might make me understand early human civilizations and their fascination with the skies. What I should have taken was an introductory, _undergraduate_ survey course in Astronomy, **not** a _graduate_ level course on the History and Philosophy of Astronomy. I'm really not used to struggling with a class and it took several shots of vodka before my friends could convince me that I needed help (with my classes that is - I'm not much of a drinker).

I briefly thought about asking Sam Carter to assist me. As a Doctor in Astrophysics, I was certain she would find this course a piece of cake. However, judging from Daniel's rather erratic language tutoring sessions with me (this year, it's Aramaic), I didn't think Sam would really be able to commit to helping me on a regular basis. That is, if she even wanted too.

So I turned to the school's handy tutoring bulletin board, and that's where I saw and recognized Kyle's name. Apparently, he was moonlighting as a tutor while he worked as a contractor for some aerospace company in town. Until hired full-time, he needed the extra income to pay for pesky things like medical insurance and play money. I decided it couldn't hurt, and gave him a call.

I am so glad I gave him a call!

I have never really had an instant attraction with someone before. I mean, sure, I have been attracted to loads of guys I thought both Daniel and Jack were damn fine looking when I first saw them - still think they are - but it's different when the attraction is reciprocated.

Oh my, is it!

Kyle did help me with my astronomy lessons. But what started out as single hour study session, soon turned into a longer lesson, followed by dinner. Later it became a lesson, followed by dinner & drinks. Then came the inevitable; dinner, drinks, a midnight stroll to procure Ben & Jerry's ice cream (even in January!)...and breakfast.

"Kira!"

"What?" I ask petulantly, trying not to turn blush. I totally wasn't paying attention to what Stefan was saying and he knows it.

"I asked," Stefan repeats slowly, "if you have heard from Dr. Yummy lately?"

"You know, you really should stop calling Daniel that." I'm mortified that one of these days, someone at the shop is going to call Daniel this to his face. Talk about embarrassing!

"He really seemed like he needed to talk to you last week," Stefan continues.

"Really?" That's odd. Why would Daniel need to talk to me? Usually it's the other way around.

"Yep!" Stefan says nodding. "I did tell you all about this last Monday, but you seemed to have other things on your mind..." he gives me a smirk. "Well, at least I assume it was on your mind.."

"Stefan!" I say, blushing. I swear, this is part of the reason why I haven't had a serious boyfriend - Stefan refuses to stop teasing me! Now if I would just quit blushing and acting like a school girl, I'm sure he'd stop..

"Any idea what he wanted to talk about?" I ask. I know Stefan has told me something about this before, but I honestly can't recall a darn thing.

"Nope," Stefan replies shaking his head. "But he and a rather concerned-looking Colonel Sumptuous came in seriously in need of talking to you.

Oh way to make me feel bad Stefan!

"I'm sure Daniel will be by sometime this week," I reply trying to assuage my guilt. How many times has Daniel helped me with school work? And the ONE time he needs me for something (although for the life of me, I can't imagine what), I'm not around.

I pretty much feel guilty for the rest of my shift. Stefan turns glum as well once he realizes that he has _completely_ destroyed my Kyle-buzz (thus, nothing to make fun of me with). I head home thinking un-romantic thoughts. Too bad Kyle is at a conference this week. Would have been nice to gone out to a sappy movie or something..

I let myself in and frown at the pile of laundry at the foot of the stairs. I knew there was something I needed to do this evening...

I look at the laundry and then look _past_ the laundry into the living room. There, sitting patiently for me is my shiny new Dell personal computer. Hey, I think buying a computer of my very own is a perfectly valid use of financial aid money! Besides, my crappy Windows 95 hand me down really wasn't working so well.

I look back at the laundry. Hmm - check email or do laundry..? I think the answer here is pretty clear. I log onto the university's email system and scan the various academic related emails. Oh look! There's yet another annoying spam-email. Now why these market research firms think they can get college students to quit (or prolong) their studies by going into the online survey biz is beyond me...

Suddenly, I spy an email "from" name that completely brightens my sour mood - an email from Daniel! Feeling the need to procrastinate just a bit longer (personal emails are way better than school work), I open it up.

Hi Kira, 

Sorry I haven't been in this week. I'm guessing Stefan told you I stopped by and I wanted to let you know that I'm fine. I had had a weird day at work last week, and I think I might have freaked him out a little. Take everything he says with a grain of salt, okay? I'm fine. Really.

So how's that literature review coming along? I know you're apprehensive about doing one of those, but I know you'll do fine. The first one is always the hardest. If you like, send me what you have by next Monday, and I'll be happy to look it over for you. Promise! And if you have any of the articles you used in your review, I'd love to read those as well (PDF or Word). There might be a couple that I have read, but I'm guessing there are quite a few that I haven't, and I would love to read something non-work related. I'm worried that if I don't come up with something rather creative, Jack might actually ask me to help HIM do his paperwork. There might not be a greater horror in the galaxy than Jack O'Neill and his paperwork...

Even without seeing you, I can just picture the way you cock your head to one side with the unspoken "?" hanging in the air. I'm so sorry Kira, but I'm afraid I can't tell you much. Again. What I can tell you is that Jack, Sam, Murray and I are in a quarantine of sorts. Sam estimates that we'll be here for another 3-4 weeks, although I'm really hoping it takes less than that. On the plus side, "here" is rather a nice place - if you ignore the fact that we can't actually leave at the moment..

I wish I could ask you to send coffee, but the tragic reality is that we're not allowed any. AT ALL. Sam even played the friendship trump card with Janet in hopes of getting us at least a little caffeine. Personally, I think Sam was hoping more for chocolate than coffee, but I would have been happy with either (although, naturally the preference would have been for coffee - preferably **your** coffee) No luck. Apparently we can't have any stimulants at all. Don't ask - I'm way too cranky and caffeine-deprived to think of something even remotely plausible in explanation.

(_Kira, this is Jack. Ignore everything Daniel has said. There are worst things in this galaxy than my inability to do paperwork_)

Oops. Sorry about that Kira. I left my laptop for only a moment and see what happens? Now Jack is reading over my shoulder, so I can't delete.. Anyhow, please do send your lit review and any articles you have handy. I'll take a look and reply next week.

Daniel

_(Hi Kira! It's Jack again. Congrats on the new boyfriend! Stefan says you've known him for quite some time, and I'm certain he's a great guy and all that, but why don't you tell him that you have a **friend** who just **happens** to be an Air Force Colonel. And this Air Force Colonel wanted him to know that if he hurts you in any way, he'll break both his knee caps. Have fun!)_

Laughing, I print the email out and bring it into the kitchen with me. Kyle has a great sense of humor and has heard me talk about both Daniel and Jack. I think he'll get a kick out of the email as well. Using some magnetic poetry pieces, I adhere the email to my refrigerator. That night I email Daniel back, sending him my lit review so far (heavens, I hate those!), and seven articles. Some are quite long, so hopefully Daniel can justifiably hold Jack (and his reports) off a bit longer. Wonder where they actually are..?

I send a much longer and more innuendo-laced email to Kyle and then happily trot off to bed with the laundry still sitting at the foot of the stairs.

The next week at precisely 2:25 PM on a Tuesday (same time as the week before - how weird is that?), I receive another chatty email from Daniel. Heavens, he must be bored! Apparently, he receives new laptops (not new new, but replacement new) every Tuesday and Friday. Any emails he writes externally get sent by his office assistant. I can't imagine what it must be like being Daniel's office assistant!

For three weeks, Daniel and I (and occasionally Jack) write back and forth. Daniel was in some serious caffeine withdrawal (I think a part of the reason he was emailing me was to get some sort of psychic coffee hit or something), and judging from Jack's comments, HE was seriously bored. Dang! I am so curious as to where they were!

Kyle returns from his conference and I have to admit to understanding very little about what he learned there. I _adore_ Kyle, but the work he does is.. well..a little boring. He's part engineer and part hard scientist. Being more a people person myself (social scientist) I just don't get the fascination with machinery and what it can do for you. Still, Kyle is pretty jonesed about this new military contract they got (it earned him a full time job!) and his enthusiasm is er...sexy. But then again, just about everything about Kyle is sexy.

* * *

I'm day dreaming yet _again_ (this is starting to become a habit) when I hear Stefan clearing his throat. I look up expecting yet another really bad heterosexual joke when I spy Daniel. He's back! 

"Daniel!" I quickly look around the shop to see who can take my place behind the espresso machine. Mercifully, Stefan shakes his head and mouths, 'you owe me one' as he gently pushes me clear of the machine.

"Welcome home!" I say. I look Daniel over and am relieved to see no obvious signs of injury. Not that I _really_ thought he was injured mind you (Jack would have certainly alluded to something like that), but with Daniel, you can't be too sure.. He looks ridiculously healthy - like someone who just returned from vacationing in Hawaii and not someone coming home from a forced quarantine. I squint a little and amend that thought. Daniel is definitely tan and ahem quite fit looking (not as fit as Kyle a little voice inside my head reminds me). But there's something a little off about him.

"Good to be home," Daniel replies giving me a quick smile before turning his attention fully towards the barista behind the cash register. He takes a few steps forward and frowns.

"Everything all right, Daniel?" Daniel gives me a pained look and sighs.

"No, not really," he pauses and looks down at his feet before looking past me and sighing. "No."

"What is it?" I ask worriedly. Heck, I have no idea _what_ he and Jack were quarantined for - it might have been something really, really _bad_. Daniel sighs again and shakes his head in what looks like a very resigned acceptance to something. He looks away from the coffee counter and focuses his attention entirely on me.

"Kira, I need you to do something for me..." he begins. He's looking at me in such a way that I'm beginning to sweat.

"What?" I try not to sound apprehensive. Daniel reaches into his pocket and - pulls it back out. Nothing.

"I told you about the quarantine, right?" Daniel begins. He knows that he did, but I just nod politely. "Right," Daniel nods pretty much to himself. "I already told you that." I try to look at him encouragingly, but frankly, he's sorta freaking me out here.

"Well, outside of work and a few assorted books and magazines, we didn't have a lot to occupy ourselves with.." he pauses and looks back up towards the espresso machine. "In less than a week, Jack had pretty much driven everyone nuts.." Daniel looks at me as if I know exactly what he is talking about.

No, sorry Daniel -not a clue.

"You see," Daniel explains, "Jack is really, really bad at sitting still." I smile. **This** I can see. "_Really_ bad," Daniel emphasizes. I nod in complete understanding.

"We were pretty much limited to about a one block radius for much of the time we were er.. _sequestered_." I nod again. Not that I can exactly envision where he and Jack were, but I'm getting the idea that they had very limited mobility.

"I mean, every day or so we could _escape_ for a half hour or so, but it wasn't until the third week that we could spend any discernible time.." Daniel shakes his head and holds up his hands. "Never mind," he insists. "What I'm trying to say is that Jack was very, very bored, and Sam and I were willing to do just about anything to get him to just SIT."

Okay. I give Daniel another encouraging smile. He sighs softly and steals another glance at the coffee behind me.

"So, one day T..Murray of all people suggests that we play cards," Daniel continues. "As long as we varied the games, Jack was pretty much placated and Sam and I could count on at least a couple hours of non-Jack interrupted work.." I smile. Gotcha.

"But, the only way to keep Jack happy.." Daniel did not pronounce "happy" in a happy way. "Was to vary the rules."

_Vary the rules_? Oh God, they didn't play strip poker did they? I feel my face go warm and chide myself to stop being ridiculous. If Daniel and Jack (and Sam and Murray) had been playing strip poker, there is no way he'd be telling me all about it!

Daniel gestures - completely oblivious to my internal discussion. "Yeah, like play for chores and things."

Oh. Well, that makes sense.

"You mean you _bet_?" I clarify.

"Yeah." Daniel shakes his head and mumbles a few words in something that sounded an awful lot like Egyptian, but with a really weird intonation. He looks pained again and switches back to English.

"Fixing meals, taking out the trash - things like that."

"Doesn't sound so bad," I say trying to make Daniel feel better. Judging from his expression, Daniel isn't the world's best poker player.

"You wouldn't think so, would you?" Daniel replies absently. "As I was saying," Daniel starts again, "in the beginning it was kind of fun. Amusing really. But then Jack started to throw in his own 'terrestrial rules' version.."

_Huh?_

"What?"

Daniel drops his head to his chest and slowly shakes his head side to side. "This is **all** Jack's fault!" he cries.

I am _so_ confused.

"Never mind," Daniel says dismissing my obvious confusion and moving on. "The bottom line, is that Jack started betting things like.." he used his right hand to tick them off. "'Picking up my dry cleaning' or 'Spending the weekend fishing with me' - things like that." Daniel chuckled and gave me a rare smile. "Murray _really_ didn't like that one!" His smile fades. "Or," Daniel pauses again and reaches back into his pocket.

"Or?" I repeat. Whatever is in his pocket must be good.

"Rationingthe coffee," Daniel says in one long breath as he pulls out a well-worn piece of paper. Why do I have a funny feeling this was placed in the betting pool several times?

"Rationingthe coffee?" I repeat.

"Yeah, Jack knew all of us were really dying for a good cup of coffee and thought it would be _fun_ to throw a little 'final death' into the betting pot." Daniel didn't sound like he thought it would be fun at all.

"Read," he says, handing me the paper.

"I hereby certify," I read aloud, "That fill in the blank purchased only ONE (1) small cup of coffee (single shot of espresso) and is leaving the store with only ONE-HALF (1/2) pound of coffee. Signed this fill in the blank day of February, 2001." In a bright blue scrawled addition was added, "Dr. Daniel Jackson" and "23rd"over the blank bits. What really surprised me was the last line.

"Hey, that's my name!" I say, as I notice the "official" signer of this document was to be none other than me!

"Well, it was pretty much a given that either Jack or I would come straight to Victor's, Kira," Daniel says, giving me a small smile. Jack was willing to amend the coffee shop and/or barista if either Sam or Murray lost." Daniel huffed a little. "He didn't think that was going to happen.."

I can't help but grin as I look around for a pen. Instantly Daniel places a beautiful Waterman fountain pen in my hand. "It's been 23 days, Kira," Daniel agonizes. "Please sign the damn thing and get me the strongest _single_ short Americano you can make!"

"Single short Americano!" I call to Stefan. I know he has been listening in to our entire conversation, and for all I know, has already made the darn drink! I bend over to sign the paper, but am afraid of tearing the worn paper against my knee.

"Kira, you're killing me here!" Daniel says in desperation as he looks longingly at the steaming coffee awaiting him on the counter. Guess, he isn't allowed to drink until I sign, eh?

"Daniel, you really should do something about this coffee addiction of yours.." Daniel motions at me to shut the hell up and turns around so I can use his back as a table. I hastily scrawl my signature against his back.

Damn. He HAS been working out.

"ThankyouKira," Daniel says in a rush as he practically runs towards the counter and reverently takes the Americano from Stefan. I feel like I'm witnessing something vaguely X-rated as I watch Daniel gingerly cup the steaming liquid to his lips and inhale deeply. "Yes!" he says in reverence as he softly blows on his coffee before taking a small sip. "Yes," he says again as a very large smile creeps across his face.

"I can't even begin to describe how good this tastes," Daniel says as he beams beatifically at me. He turns back to Stefan (who I think needs to take a cold shower now). "Thanks, Stefan."

Stefan, who had witnessed Daniel's nearly orgasmic coffee bliss, replies in the only way he can. "The pleasure was all mine, man." I nearly lose it right there. Luckily, I cover my strong desire to laugh with a few well-timed coughs. Before the situation could get any more ridiculous, I hear the door open and a new customer walk in.

Ah! Saved by the customer.

"Good Morning, Campers!" Jack says jovially, as he strides into the shop and slaps Daniel heartily on the back. So much for 'saved by the customer..'

"Enjoying your coffee, Daniel?" Jack asks rather evilly. Daniel takes another long drink of his Americano before turning to face Jack.

"Why, yes Jack. I am. How nice of you to FOLLOW me to ascertain this."

'Ascertain?' Jack mouths to me. I try not to giggle. This whole morning is like something out of Shakespearian comedy or something. On second thought, maybe a tragedy..

"Everything signed in proper order?" Jack asks Daniel while looking straight at me. I hand him the signed paper.

"Yes, Jack." Daniel says petulantly. Man! I can only imagine what those last three weeks must have been like! Shaking his head, Daniel returns back to the counter. "Stefan, could you also bag for me one HALF pound of Italian/French blend? Whole bean."

"Make sure that's a _half_ pound only now," Jack adds helpfully.

"Half pound French/Italian whole bean," Stefan confirms to Daniel. "You got it, Dr. J." Dr. J.? I suppose I should be thankful. He could have called Daniel 'Professor Yummy'.

"And while you're at it," Jack asks. "Could I also have a cup of drip coffee, please?"

"Do you need a signed note as well?" I ask Jack. Daniel snorts quietly into his coffee. Jack gives Daniel a superior look.

"That would be 'no'," he says smugly.

"Just checking," I reply.

"Oh, and would you make it a **large** cup, Stefan?" Jack asks. The look Daniel gives Jack is positively glacial.

"I'll get you, Jack."

"No you won't, Daniel."

"You have to sleep sometime, Jack."

"I'm a very light sleeper, Daniel."

"Here's your coffee!" Stefan interrupts loudly, as he places a large double-cupped large coffee in front of Jack and a half pound of beans in front of Daniel. He rings up Daniel first, who pointedly does _not_ pay for Jack's large coffee. Jack cheerfully pays for his own coffee and says his goodbyes.

"Oh, Kira?"

"Yes?"

"You still have that boyfriend - what was his name - Kevin?"

"Kyle," I supply helpfully.

"Ah, yes. KYLE." Could Jack put any more emphasis on Kyle's name? Geesh.

"Well, I do hope you told KYLE what I emailed you about a few weeks ago." He gives me a rather serious look and I nod quickly. Yeah - absolutely. Sure, Jack!

"Good!" Jack replies jovially as he clasps Daniel on the shoulder again. Daniel doesn't look like he at all appreciates the gesture. "Oh quit being so melodramatic Daniel!" Jack says to his friend. "Let's head on over to Carter's and see if she has finished setting up her pink flamingo lawn ornaments!"

* * *

**More Author's Notes:** And so ends Season 4 Barista tales! I was going for laugh-at-loud reactions with this one, and hope I succeeded. 

My vacation was grand (in case you were wondering), and I have returned home with loads of story ideas (some Barista, and some gasp! non-Barista). This story is dedicated to Louise, my British SG-partner in crime, who _insisted_ I watch the rest of Season 8 (about ten episodes for me). I can't tell you how inspired I was (to write) by both Threads and Moebius. Amanda Tapping was positively briliant! I will say no more, but _highly_ recommend these episodes! EG

I'll have you know I did see Al Hambra (wow!) and a nice little section of Spanish countryside. However, I also spent a rather embarrassing amount of time watching Stargate DVDs on my laptop (again, I blame it on those last four episodes of Season 8). I swear, the next time I'm in Spain; I will NOT bring my laptop and I WILL know more Spanish. Well, at least more than 'Dos mas cervathes, por favor'...G

Completed March 23, 2005

Website: www (dot) dietcokechic (dot) com (slash) stargate


	41. Outside the Box

**Title:** Barista 41 -- Outside the Box  
**Season:** Season 5  
**Spoilers:** Vague references for 0501- Enemies, 0502-Threshold, 0401-Small Victories  
More concrete reference to 0503-Ascension  
**Category** General  
**Rating:** PG (mild swearing)

**Author's Notes:** SO sorry about the massive Barista drought. The good news is that I just completed The Last of my difficult quarters and should be supplying quasi-regular updates from here on out.

I have great plans for Season 5, but I kinda have to lead you all into it. I'm totally setting the stage with this story. So while it might not be gut-clutching funny, or 'oh-my-God, what are you doing to her!' angst-ridden, I think you'll still enjoy it. Heh - especially the end! Be patient -we'll get there! Have I ever let you down?

Apologies for the longish intro here but there have been a lot of questions asked in the last few months, and i've been keeping track! First I'd like to thank the "newbies" who have braved **hours** of Barista bombardment recently as they stumbled onto my series - Kin-ahan-PandunLuatiki, Read300300, Michela, Karthik, Yllyana & cripeswolfdee - Thanks for taking the plunge and giving this plunky little series a try!

_Various questions in no particular order:_Stefan is pronounced "STEFF-in" (Waundering Minstrel) Kyle's job.. all will become clear in the end. evil grin (rhia) I'll see what I can about getting the people i work with to read my stories. ;> (Mistress Desdemona ) You have my permission to use 'slighty sweaty Daniel' is any future musings! (Jennzabelle) the texan tourist in the early Barista stories is not in fact General Hammond -- if it had been, I would have written the character with much more personality! ;> (sentinel) Vinnett, I'd answer your questions, but you haffta leave an email address! And to all the folks who wonder how I'm going to deal with Daniel's ascension -- well, let's just say I already know (hey, for most of the episodic tales, i don't have a clue what's going to happen until I actually start writing - this forethought think is a bit weird!)

Phew! And now without further ado...

* * *

I really am listening. 

"…and then Dr. Feldman takes us through a doorway guarded by _two_ military guys and shows us what appears to be a Lego piece..."

Well, sort of.

Kyle pauses, and looks at me with those beautiful eyes of his. "Kira, are you listening to me?"

I try not to look guilty. "Of course!" I reply. And if I had to reiterate back to him what he has been talking about for the last 20 minutes, I bet I would do a pretty good job. I really _am_ listening to him. It's just that I'm not finding it particularly interesting.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I think it's great that Kyle has been hired full time to work for a well-respected aeronautical think tank. And it's fantastic that he's working on this great "secret" project that has him making mathematical models of weird things no one really understands. But that's just the problem really – _I_ don't understand it either.

"Did it come with any of those cute little Lego men as well?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

"Kira!" Kyle replies with a slight frown as he shakes his head. Um. Guess the levity thing didn't work.

"Just kidding, Kyle," I reply giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I think it's great that your job is meaningful and challenging…" I pause as I realize something very, very important.

"I'm sorry I've been going on and on about it, Kree," Kyle adds apologetically, as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. One arm snakes up my back and begins toying with the hair at the nape of my neck. Some part of my brain registers that Kyle's roommates are out for the afternoon, but another part of my brain is screaming for attention in large, neon words. The words fade a bit, as I turn my attention back to Kyle, but they never quite disappear.

IS YOUR JOB MEANINGFUL AND CHALLENGING?

* * *

"So you're not buying mechanical difficulties?" Daniel asks somewhat seriously, as he pulls out his wallet to pay for his coffee. 

"Daniel, you pulled another mysterious disappearing act again," I reply in exasperation. "You really expect me to believe you were _held up_ due to _mechanical difficulties_?"

"It happens!" Daniel replies defensively.

"For **three weeks**!" I shake my head. "It's the 21st century, Daniel," I explain patiently. "I doubt there is anywhere on the planet that would 'trap' you for three weeks." I refrain from explaining the wonders of GPS or satellite telephones. Daniel gives a 'hmmmph' sound and reaches for his wallet. He eyes me critically as he hands me a twenty.

"Kira, are you all right?" Well, this is unexpected. And here I thought I was hiding it so well.

"Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" I ask, as I hand over his change. As usual, Daniel places several bills into the tip jar. I swear, Daniel alone is paying for my textbooks. Not complaining!

"What do you mean?" Daniel asks looking a little wary.

"Oh, I don't know, Daniel…" I begin fumbling for words. "You just don't seem.." happy? content? I'm saved from having to come up with something by Daniel's cell phone. I chuckle to myself as I recognize a few bars of 'Walk Like An Egyptian' by the Bangles.

"Jack's discovered personalized ring tones," Daniel explains with a resigned sigh, as he steps away from the counter and answers the phone.

"Hi Jack." Well at least Daniel sounds normal on the phone to Jack. He always has this slightly cautious, 'what are you going to ask of me now' voice when he talks on the phone with Jack.

I'm not purposefully eavesdropping, but it's 2:00 on a Wednesday afternoon, and there aren't a lot of customers around. I grab a clean rag and wipe down the espresso machine.

"I spoke with her this morning," Daniel says. He switches the phone from one ear to the other as Jack replies. "She seemed fine, Jack. A little embarrassed, and more than a little bored, but fine." He pauses as Jack says something.

"Well gee, Jack, I don't know. Maybe because the rest of the base is thinking she's **nuts**?" Daniel says in exasperation.

_Nuts? _

"Oh come on Jack, we've all been down that road before. If Sam says…," his voice drops off as he glances furtively in my direction. "If Sam says she has _company_ then she probably does." Jack talks for several seconds.

"I know you are, Jack," Daniel says quietly. "We'll get this figured out." He pauses, as he looks my way with a smile. "Now if you'll excuse me, my coffee awaits!"

"Yes Jack, I am indeed at Kira's." I love it when they refer to the coffee shop by my name!

"Yes Jack, I will tell Kira hello from you," Daniel repeats, looking my way. I mouth 'hello back'.

"Kira says hi as well… I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?" Long pause as Jack explains something that has Daniel rolling his eyes.

"He has seen that before you know," Daniel starts. Jack obviously interrupts him.

"I don't know, Jack – maybe six times? Can't we see something else?" He holds up a hand to stop Jack from talking. Naturally, as Jack is not in the local vicinity – it doesn't work.

"If Sam agrees, I'll be there," Daniel concedes. "Just give me a call tonight with the when and where. Bye, Jack."

"Jack says hi," Daniel says as he picks up his coffee.

"So I heard. How's he doing?"

"Jack?" Daniel says absently. "Oh Jack's fine. Jack's pretty much always fine." I'm definitely hearing something weird in his voice at the mention of Jack's name, but I'll leave it alone.

"And Sam?"

"Weird, classified story, Kira," Daniel replies candidly, as he takes a drink of his coffee. God, I love the fact that for some things he doesn't even try to make things up!

"Jack's arranging for a 'team night' this evening to cheer Sam up. Pizza and movies."

"That should be fun."

"Mmmm hmmm," Daniel replies noncommittaly. He takes a moment and looks around the near empty store. "Is there anyone who can watch the counter for a few minutes?" I give him an odd look.

"Sure. Hold on a sec." I head to the back and grab Louise away from her bean counting (okay, weekly inventory sheets). It's pretty much time for my break anyhow. I make myself an Italian soda and lead Daniel to the back of the shop.

"What's up?" I ask as we sit down.

"Actually Kira, I was going to ask you that." _Huh_?

"Huh?"

"I wasn't kidding when I was asking you if you're all right," Daniel begins. "There is definitely something bothering you." Observant much?

"Just a little pre-graduation blues Daniel," I say casually. "It isn't a big deal."

"You don't graduate until next spring, right?" Daniel asks. I nod. Suddenly, I really don't feel like talking about this.

"And your classes are going all right?" He knows they are as he edits at least one of my papers per term. I always share the grade received with him – the professors think I'm a rock star (I'm pretty certain this is due to Daniel).

"Classes are going great, Daniel." I hear the desire to stop talking about this in my own voice; I know Daniel can hear it as well.

"So what's the problem, Kira?" Daniel asks softly looking at me with eyes nearly as gorgeous as Kyle's. I nearly lose it right there - He really does want to help.

"It's silly really," I begin in babble mode as I take off my glasses and rub my eyes. "I was hanging out with Kyle the other night and he said something. And then I couldn't stop thinking about it… And then I began to look at what I've done for the last five years…"

"Kira, breathe," Daniel orders. "Take a deep breath and just tell me what's wrong." I take his advice. I breathe in and out a few times, take another sip of my drink and then lay it all out on the table.

"Daniel, I'm 23 years old and am going to be graduating in less than a year with a Masters in Ancient History and Languages. And I haven't a damn clue what I'm going to do with it!" I say angrily. "My resume looks like crap because I've been merrily working in a **coffee shop** for the last 4 ½ years and I haven't any idea of where I want to go, or what I want to do with all of this!" I visibly slump in my chair now that I've bared my soul and voiced my fears aloud.

"Daniel, I want.. I need to work in a job that is meaningful and challenging," I say calming down a bit. "And I realize now that I'm not going to find it here working at Victors.." Apparently, I had been talking to my drink for the last 30 seconds or so, for now I look up. And there's Daniel giving me one of his patented smiles.

"Was it ever your **plan** to work at Victors for the rest of your life?"

"Of course not!" I reply. I mean Victor is great and all, but usually after you get the advanced degree, you tend to head _away_ from retail.

Usually.

"Kira, there is nothing wrong with having held a steady job while attending school for the past four years." Well, when he says it like that

"But, I'm a barista Daniel!" I reply. "Outside of the ability to make a mean cup of coffee from a handful of beans and a French press"

"A very useful skill for a budding linguist and historian," Daniel adds.

"Right!" I say sarcastically.

"Kira, I'm serious!" Daniel insists. "You're a scholar. And scholars tend to keep strange hours. I'm not kidding when I say I think your experience here at Victors won't be the albatross you're envisioning.

"Maybe," I concede. "But it still doesn't help me figure out what I'm going to do when I graduate."

"What do you want to do?" I resist rolling my eyes. If I knew that Daniel, I wouldn't be in this state!

"All I know is that I adore languages and culture. I like the dead ones more than the live ones, as there's more mystery to be found there."

"Sounds like you should be taking some archaeology classes!" Daniel says smiling.

"No -no, you just don't get it, Daniel." I reply in exasperation. "Archaeologists spend hours and hours sifting through dirt, sand and worthless artifacts until they find the items that they need for their research. They pull together puzzle pieces from a gazillion different mediums." I shake my head  I know I'm not making any sense.

"What I like- what I **love**, is to be given fragments, specifically linguistic fragments, and combine those fragments with known oral and written histories. Through **those**, I can come up with complete story." Daniel gives me one of those looks again  a cross between, you're crazy' and you're a genius'.

"That's really want you want?" Daniel asks.

"Yes," I reply emphatically. "That's _exactly_ what I want!" I sigh dramatically and take another sip of my drink. "And you tell me where I can find something like that."

"You might be surprised, Kira." He better not be making fun of me!

"And what does that mean?"

"It means," Daniel insists, "that you need to look outside the box."

"'Outside the box'?" I repeat.

"Yes!" Daniel says nodding. "Start doing what normal academics would do, and apply for internships at organizations or companies you admire. But at the same time, I recommend applying to one or two organizations that you might not think have _anything_ to offer you."

"I'm not going to apply to the Air Force, Daniel," I know Jack is still holding out hope for me, but there is _no way_ I'm going to go into the military.

"I'm not saying you have to, Kira," Daniel insists. "But there might be some other organizations out there just as crazy-sounding as the military. And you just might surprise yourself by seeing what they have to offer."

"You really think so?"

"Absoultely!" Daniel replies. "My name probably won't benefit you all that much, but I'd be happy to write you a letter of recommendation if you like."

"That would be great, Daniel! Thank you." Daniel glances at his watch and shrugs apologetically.

"I have to go, Kira."

"I should be getting back to work, anyhow," I reply. We stand up, and impulsively I throw my arms around Daniel and give him a big hug.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Daniel says giving me a hug in return. "I'll talk to you soon, all right?"

"That is if you aren't trapped in foreign lands with mechanical difficulties," I reply cheekily.

"I think you've been hanging around Jack too long" Daniel mutters, as he exits the store. It is only several minutes later that I realize I hadn't had a chance to ask Daniel what was bothering **him**.

* * *

It's now 1:00 in the morning and I've just finished submitting my resume to three universities, two foundations (one in London!) and an historical research center in Washington D.C. Yes, my CV is rather weak, but I'm hoping my course work and cover letters will at least get me an interview. Best case scenario? An internship that leads into a job. Daniel did mention getting my feet wet 

Now, all that's left is to hit the send' button on this one last application. I stare at the screen for several long minutes debating the pros and cons of hitting that innocuous little button. I mean, if Daniel managed to find a job working with the _military_ whose is to say I won't find something similar? What was it Daniel said? Think 'outside the box'.

I don't even smoke, and yet here I am contemplating a cigaretteHow can I honestly be considering this! The screen prompt blinks phlegmatically back at me, offering no answers. I tell myself I'm being silly. I mean that odds of this even making it to someone's desk are I read the screen again. _'We receive over 3,000 resumes every month_' Okay. The odds are vastly _against_ my getting a phone call, let alone an interview. So what is the harm in applying?

What's the _reason_ for applying? I ask myself.

Because there ain't nothing more outside the box than this! And with that, I hit 'send'.

Within moments the acknowledgement screen appears:

**Thank you.**

**You have successfully posted your resume to the Central intelligence Agency resume database. We will review it against our current hiring requirements. If we find a match between your expertise and our employment needs, one of our recruiters will contact you.**

Giggling a little to myself, I save the page and power down my computer. Wait until my friends here about this!

On second thought, maybe this is something I'll keep to myself for the time being.

* * *

Completed May 29, 2005 

Well? What did you think? Like it? Hate it? Please let me know! You might have an _idea_ where this story is going, but I betcha, you'll be surprised in places...

And seeing how this is an update to my original posting (don't get me started about Internet Explorer vs. Firefox browsers...), I must admit that I feel like a heel for moping around all week due to the lack of (personal) nominations in the 2005 SG Fanfiction Awards. Turns out the folks at that awards are just a little behind. _dietcokechic looks sheepishly about_ Oops. That'll teach me about jumping to conclusions! Now, I still might not get anything, but I'm feeling pretty all right after this last update. You guys DO remember me! _a happy dietcokechic meanders off screen to get a diet coke..._


	42. A Day in the Life

**Title:** Barista 42 -- Another Day in the Life  
**Season:** Season 5  
**Spoilers:** 0504 -The Fifth Man 0506 -Rite of Passage  
**Category** General/Humor  
**Rating:** PG-13 (Language)

**Notes:** I think this will appease both those who wanted something longish, and those who thought I should stick to one barista per SG episode. There's a theme in this one. :smile: Really!

* * *

It's been three weeks since I sent out those applications. So far, I have heard a 'thanks, but we're not hiring' reply; 'send us an updated resume after you've graduated' reply; and a promising request for a translation sample from the London foundation. I never really thought I'd hear back from the CIA (3,000 resumes a _month!_), and I think I'm kinda happy about that. 

"Kira, phone!" I cringe as I hear Stefan shouting my name. I have no idea why Victor even bothered to buy these phones with transfer buttons -all anyone does around here is scream at one another.

Due entirely to the noisy espresso machine of course.

"Got it!" I shout in return not feeling even remotely hypocritical; the machine is running after all.

"Hello?"

"Kira?" I smile to myself. Why if it isn't my favorite archaeologist!

"Hi, Daniel," I reply in a far better mood than I was in just moments ago. "We still on for this afternoon?" Daniel has been such an amazing help with this course I'm taking in linguistic classification systems. He keeps bringing up these crazy 'what if' scenarios that leaves me chomping at the bit to try to solve. This is by far my favorite class to date, and I'm seriously contemplating doing my thesis on alternative paradigms in the cataloging of ancient languages.

I am _so_ the nerd.

"Yeah, about that..." Daniel's voice trails off. "I'm going to have to cancel on you, I'm afraid."

I try to hide my disappointment. "Should I even try and ask why?" After hearing years of both believable and unbelievable excuses (my favorite is still 'kidnapped by aliens'), I always give Daniel an easy out.

"Probably not," Daniel says with an audible sigh. "Hold on a second, Kira." I can only imagine that Daniel is now covering the phone, for all I can hear are muffled voices. Ah, but unbeknownst to Daniel, I have great hearing. Plus, the whole linguist thing means I'm pretty good at discerning conversations.

Even conversations I'm probably not supposed to hear.

"I'm going to ask her."

"Daniel, you can't!"  
"I'm not going to _say_ anything Sam -just ask."  
"This is really not a good idea."  
"And hacking into base security was?"

I'm doing my best not to laugh as Daniel comes back on the phone. "Kira, have you ever heard either Jack or I mention a Lt. Tyler in the last couple of weeks?" I think about it for a moment.

"No," I say finally. "Who's Tyler?"

"Er, no one," Daniel says too quickly, as he deftly changes the subject. "I'm not sure how long I'm going to be stuck on base, but I'll try and stop by in the next couple of days, okay?"

"Sure," I reply. "Take care of yourself, Daniel. And tell Sam hi from me." Daniel says goodbye and hangs up. I spend a couple of seconds staring at the phone.

I really do have weird friends.

* * *

I'm behind the counter when Jerk Number 351 comes through the front door (yes, we do keep track). Instantly I know he's a Jerk because of the way he's talking on his cell phone. Yeah, I know -cell phones may be the wave of the future, but they sure can be annoying. 

"I don't care if you **are** caught, piggy back on the hack and give me a _name_!" Had this guy been in an office, he so would have slammed down his phone.

"Idiots!" he mumbles to himself, as he gets in the short line to order. I take the order of the woman in front of me, as I ponder the well-dressed Jerk behind her. I know I'm staring at him, but I can't help it -the guy looks really familiar. I have just finished counting back the nice lady's change, when it hits me.

"Q!" I say aloud.

"Excuse me?" Jerk sneers with a huff, as he steps up to the counter.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like the character 'Q' from Star Trek?" Jerk frowns and does not look amused. I wonder if it is because he hears it all the time, or heck, maybe he is the actor who played Q!

"No," he says finally, glaring at me with poorly hidden scorn. Guess he's not an actor. I also don't think Jerk 351 likes me.

"My mistake," I say sweetly in return. It always throws these rude guys for a loop when I'm uber nice girl. It doesn't hurt me for karma either. "What can I get you?"

"Double tall Americano." He says it in a tone that implies I'm a lowly servant girl and he's the Lord of the Manor. Two or three years ago, that probably would have offended me, but now? Hell, I might even be _more_ educated than him!

Even if I don't exactly know what I want to do with all this education.

I really wish he hadn't ordered Daniel's favorite drink though, it almost seems blasphemous, ya know? I (grudgingly) ring up the order and am not surprised when he gives me the exact change, and then only drops a few (lightweight) coins into the tip jar. He is just picking up his drink at the end of the bar when his cell phone rings.

"Simmons." Ah, so Monsieur Jerk has a name. He listens for a few moments and then smiles. It isn't a very nice smile.

"I knew it had to be one of the Wonder Twins who did it," he says with contempt. "Too damn smart for their own good..." He listens for a few moments. "How much did she see?" Apparently, whatever it was, it doesn't seem to concern Jerk Man. Er, I mean 'Simmons'. "A four digit number isn't going to tell them a damn thing," he replies cryptically. I really need to stop eavesdropping -it's always so unsatisfying to hear just one side of the conversation!

"And there is still no medical reason for their group **delusion**?" Obviously, he doesn't give a lot of credence to this particular delusion. _Wonder what it is?_ He pauses while the person on the other end replies. "Good!" he replies, flashing that superior-looking smile (_so_ similar to 'Q' I'll have you know...) "Keep me informed of anything new -I'll be on the base in 15." With that, he hangs up the phone, stuffs it into his suit pocket and picks up his coffee.

Base huh? I sure hope he's not heading to Cheyenne Mountain - I don't see him and Jack getting along too well. I hope he's like some kind of visiting Washington oversight guy or something (the suit is a dead giveaway), and will leave in the morning. He totally gives me the creeps.

Even if he _does_ look like Q.

* * *

Stefan is behind the counter, and I'm on the machines when a cute teenage couple comes in a few days later. Rather than go straight up to the counter, they stand in the back of the store and contemplate the overhanging menu. I always laugh when I see folks do this -it's a _coffee_ shop for crying out loud, I mean, it isn't like there are things on it you've never seen before. 

"Damn, too young." Stefan murmurs under his breath as I take the order from a 30-something guy in line. It takes all my self-control not to cringe at his comment. You know for a minority himself, Stefan is _completely_ un P.C.

"Plus, the kid is straight," I add, when I turn my back to get the 30-something's coffee bean order. Both of us know that we're talking about the cute 16-year-old boy and not the equally cute young woman hanging on his arm. I glance at the lovebirds behind my shoulder, and then turn back around and do a complete double take. Hey! She isn't just doing the teenage "hanging on your boyfriend's arm" thing; she's really hanging on his arm. I'm contemplating asking her if she needs help, when her boyfriend beats me to it.

"Cass, are you all right?" cute kid worriedly asks, giving his girlfriend additional support around her waist. Points for the boyfriend!

"I'm fine," she replies, sounding every inch a petulant teenager. Ah man! When did I get so old? "Just need some caffeine."

"You sure?" he asks not sounding convinced as he tightens his grip on her waist. "You feel a bit warm..."

"Don't you start with me, Dominic!" she says angrily, pulling away from his embrace. "It was all I could do to convince my mom to let me go to school today."

"You _have_ been sick this past week."

"It was just a cold -no big deal." Boyfriend Dominic doesn't look like he believes her. "Besides," she croons (totally laying it on thick), "if I hadn't convinced her I was better, she wouldn't have agreed to let me go out tonight."

"She wouldn't have made you stay in on your birthday!"

"You don't know my mom," she mutters shaking her head. "Consider yourself lucky she didn't lock me an ICU or something."

"Oh, come on Cass -she can't be that bad." Wow. A boyfriend actually sticking up for mom -wonders never cease.

"Ha!" Cass replies, shaking her head. "Remember when I got the chicken pox last year? My mom totally took me back..." her voice trails off, and she shakes her head as if trying to dispel the memory. "It doesn't matter," she says finally. "Let's just say that I wasn't exactly sitting at home watching soap operas during the week I missed school."

"Bummer." Now he's sounding like the 16-year-olds I remember! They have just stepped up to the counter when I realize...

"Cassie!"

"Oh my gosh, Kira!" Cassie replies, all smiles. Wow! I seriously don't know if I would have recognized her had we just passed casually on the street. Cassie was a little girl when I saw her in the park a couple of years ago. And now? Well, let's just say I'm not surprised she has a boyfriend.

"How are you?" we ask at the same time.

"You first," I urge. No one is behind them, so there's no rush.

"Oh you know -school..."

"And _boyfriends_," I tease. Cassie blushes.

"Dominic, this is Kira," she says, introducing us.

"Hey," Dominic greets me, in that ever so effusive way teenage boys tend to have. Damn, there I go again! I am old!

"How are you?" Cassie asks. "Every now and then I hear about what you're studying from either Jack or Daniel."

"Really?" I can't help it -knowing that Jack and/or Daniel mention me to others makes me feel all warm and glowy inside.

"Oh yeah -the stories we heard from Daniel when you were in Egypt last year! I thought Jack was going to shove Daniel back thru the...well, back to the desert!" I grin.

"What would you like to drink?" I ask them.

"I'll have a tall iced mocha," Cassie says and Dominic..."

"I'll have an almond latte," Dominic finishes.

"Hot?" Cassie scoffs, "it's at least 80 degrees out!"

"I like my coffee drinks hot," Dominic explains. Fair enough. Cassie and I continue to chat about our favorite military guys (I'm smart enough to realize that I won't be making her happy if I ask how her mom is doing) as Stefan makes the drinks. I try to prevent them from paying, but Cassie won't hear anything of it. She is certain Jack would find out that I hadn't allowed them to pay for their drinks, and give her hell. Yeah, right.

Cassie is handing me over a ten-dollar bill and two quarters (total charge: $5.50) when all of a sudden I yelp and drop the coins on the counter; I've just been shocked!

My fingers might be smarting, but poor Cassie looks like she might faint. "Cassie, should I call your mom?" I ask, resisting the urge to shake my hands to stop their tingling.

"I'm fine," she whispers, looking at my fingertips. "Sorry, Kira."

"That'll teach me not to handle coins without being grounded," I joke. Cassie doesn't seem to find it particularly funny. They pick up their drinks from Stefan, and after assuring me that she'd tell her mom, and all those I know hello from me, left.

Right as she exited the door, our lights flickered. I look at my reddened fingertips and make a mental note to talk to Victor about having the store checked out by an electrician.

* * *

It's late when I get home. I eat leftover Chinese food directly out of the carton and power up my laptop for another rousing evening of linguistic literacy. I'm nearly ready to call it a night when I notice three new messages in my "junk" folder. I never get anything except spam in this folder, but haven't quite opted to have it all automatically deleted -- you never know when that cute TA from Antiquities is going to drop me a line... 

I delete an advertisement for hair growth and another for GIRLS XOXOX. The third one just says, "Regarding Linguistic Position". I'm positive it's going to be a "position" that isn't exactly wholesome, when I read whom it's from.

No WAY. I blink and rub my eyes in disbelief. This so has to be a joke.

I read it again.

No joke.

"Dear Applicant, 

My name is Judy, and I assist with the recruitment for the CIA's analytic component, the Directorate of Intelligence.

We want to thank you for submitting your resume to the CIA, and to ask you to complete the following documents as a next step in working with the Central Intelligence Agency."

The email goes on for another few paragraphs discussing how I made it through the first part of the application process and describes in detail what more they need from me. I read thru the entire email message twice and check out the three attachments. Apparently they want me to fill out an initial security form; school transcripts; and an original analytical or linguistic writing sample. Whoa. I sit in the dark and stare at my computer for several minutes in complete awe. It's one o'clock in the morning and I've just passed the first hurdle towards working for the CIA. I think words like "surreal" were invented for just such an occasion. I want to call a friend (or two), but still am not certain if that email will be there in the morning. What kind of name is "Judy" for a CIA recruiter anyhow?

I power down my computer and head to bed. I'm certain I'm going to dream about Mulder and Scully tonight. Oh, I know they're FBI and this is the CIA -but _both_ are just so completely outside my league...

What the heck as I going to do next?

* * *

That's **two** completed post term. See? I am _loads_ better when I don't have to juggle full time work and full time school. I said I'd post _three_ by July 4th, and I'm going to do my darndest to stick to it. I will be travelling over the July 4th holiday, so while I probably will have it written, i might have to wait until I get home to post (the downside of hosting your own website). Stay tuned! 

Completed June 22, 2005


	43. Harbingers

**Title:** The Barista 43 - Harbingers  
**Season:** 5  
**Category:** General, Angst & Humor  
**Episode Related:** 511 - Desperate Measures  
**Rating:** PG-13 (Stefan. Need I say more?)  
**Author's Notes:** This one _is_ short, but I'll be posting the sequel in the next couple of days. Promise!

Notes Addendum: _Last_ title change. I swear!

* * *

"They emailed me again," I say conversationally as Stefan and I go through the closing checklist. 

"The Feds?" he asks, putting on his new "Best of Queen" CD. I look at the cover; maybe this one is "The Very Best of Queen" - I get them confused.

"I think that's only for the FBI," I say as I empty the coffee pots. It still feels a little strange to be talking to him about this. After the second email, I told myself I couldn't keep it all in (ah man, that's a Queen line, isn't it?) and told Stefan, Jeanne and Louise all about my impulsive application and the shocking series of events that followed.

It hasn't escaped my notice that I haven't told Kyle yet. I quickly shove that thought to the back on my mind, as I'm just not prepared to dwell on the Kyle Question right now.

"You'll never get it, Kira," Stefan says with authority. I raise an eyebrow.

"So you're an expert at governmental agencies as well as business management?" Stefan doesn't like anyone to know, but he has been slyly working on his MBA in the evenings for the past two years. Victor is so impressed, that he's bumped him up to full Manager, and I wouldn't be surprised if the have some secret coffee shop deal brewing behind the scenes. Stefan just shakes his head (he really doesn't like to talk about his pending degree).

"You're too damn smart, Kree," Stefan explains sagely. "You're going to see through all that slick party line bullshit and come to your senses.

Stefan isn't too keen on my joining the Central Intelligence Agency. Heck, _I'm _not so sure I'm keen on the notion either.

"There are plenty of smart people who work for the CIA," I argue. "And they _aren't _political!" Stefan just scoffs; I don't think he agrees with me. I'm about to tell him what they wanted from me this time (original research paper to go with my grades and signed affidavit that I haven't taken drugs in the last seven years), when I hear someone wrapping on the outside window. I turn around expecting some 9-to-5'er trying to get one last cup of coffee before heading home, when I catch sight of one casually dressed, but rather intense-looking Colonel Jack O'Neill.

I'm worried before I even get to the front door.

"I know you're closed, Kira," Jack says without preamble as I unlock the front door. He nods to Stefan and gently pulls me off to one side.

"Have you seen Sam?" He asks quietly, looking down at me with unreadable brown eyes.

Wow. He has some seriously nice-looking eyes.

"Sam Carter?" I askj ust to make sure we're talking about the same person. To the best of my knowledge, Jack only knows one Sam, but I've never heard Jack call her anything but Carter', and needed to make sure. Daniel assures me that his calling Sam by her last name is a weird (but necessary) military thing.

"Yes. Sam Carter," he replies, sounding a little exasperated. "Have you seen her?"

"Recently?" Jack nods, and looks at me with an unreadable expression - yet another phrase I never thought was possible before now. "She and Daniel came by last week," I begin, before casting my eyes regretfully downwards. "But I haven't seen her since." Jack's face visibly falls with the news. "What happened to Sam, Jack?"

"She's missing," Jack replies in a clipped voice. "She was last seen at her gym two days ago, and no one has heard from her since."

"Any leads?" I chide myself as soon as the words are out of my mouth. _Leads_? Who uses words like that outside of police drama shows?

"Nothing," Jack replies soberly. "Daniel is checking the west end of town, and I'm doing the east."

"If I see or hear of anything Jack, I'll give you a call." After all, his phone number in my locker doesn't have to be exclusively for Daniel.

"That would be great, Kira," Jack replies already mentally checking off the coffee shop and thinking about the next place he should look (at least that's how it seemed to me).

"Good luck, Jack," I say sincerely. "I hope Sam shows up safe and well soon."

"Me too, Kira," Jack replies as he opens the door and softly shuts it behind him. He hasn't gone more then two paces before his cell phone is out and to his ear - I never even saw him dial. I wonder if he's calling Daniel. I stare at Jack through the window for several seconds as my mind whirls with dozens of horrible scenarios as to what might have happened to Sam. I silently send off good wishes for her safe return. I feel rather than hear Stefan behind me and turn back around, determined to get the final word in this time.

"_Plenty _of smart people work for the CIA."

* * *

I'm not surprised when I don't hear anything about Sam's fate for several days. Just when I'm starting to get a little worried (okay, a lot), Daniel shoots me an email and lets me know that Sam has been found. No details of course, but I learn that she is back at Cheyenne Mountain, safe and sound. Well, I don't know about _sound_ - Daniel's email was rather terse, but she is back where she needs to be. 

I _am _a little surprised a few days later when Jack and Daniel show up with _Jack's_ arm in a sling. Without even realizing it (and completely against my will I might add), I find myself smiling.

"Hey, what's so funny?" Jack asks, as Daniel opens the door for him. Jack grudgingly grunts a thank you as they walk over to where I'm working the counter.

"I'm curious as to what excuse you'll use," I say in complete honesty. I _know_ I'm not going to get the truth, and it's starting to get interesting to hear the stories they come up with.

"I was shot," Jack says succinctly. I look him in the eye and blanch. Holy crap, he's telling the truth!

"Oh my God, Jack - I'm so sorry!" I stutter. "I had no idea..." Jack holds up a hand to stop my mea culpa-ing.

"It happens," he says shrugging nonchalantly. Or at least _trying _to shrug nonchalantly.

"Actually, it happens _a lot_," Daniel adds helpfully. Jack gives him a dirty look.

"Not _that_ often Daniel."

"I'm pretty sure you've been shot more times than I have, Jack."

"Maybe with a _gun_..." Jack begins.

"As opposed to _what, _Jack?" Daniel taunts. I can do nothing but watch them like a ping-pong match and wonder if they're ever serious. Jack glares at his friend and says nothing.

"So, Sam is all right?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"Sam's going to be just fine," Daniel says. Jack still has a vaguely haunted look in his eye, but he nods in agreement.

"Carter can pull through anything," Jack says quietly. Well, there isn't much to argue on that, now is there?

I make their coffees; Daniel going for one of Stefan's disgustingly sweet macadamia nut mochas and Jack a tall drip.

"Could you leave a little room in it, Kira?" Jack asks as he awkwardly reaches into his baggy khakis for his wallet.

"Want me to put some steamed milk in there, Jack?" I ask.

"Um," Jack replies, without looking up from his one-handed fishing trip for his wallet. "It isn't for milk." He glances up at Daniel as if daring him to contradict him. Daniel just rolls his eyes and reaches into his back pocket.

"Hey, it's your body, Jack," Daniel replies as he pulls out his own wallet. "You know as well as I do that Janet will be able to tell in less than a second that you've been drinking alcohol - it's completely none of my concern."

"Like the attitude, Daniel," Jack mutters as he fumbles the wallet and it drops back down his pants.

"I got it, Jack," Daniel begins, as he opens his wallet and takes out a ten.

"There's no way you're reaching into my pants, Daniel," Jack says as he concentrates on retrieving his wallet. I nearly die right there. Jack has no idea that Daniel was offering to _pay_ not _fetch! _Daniel is turning a little red, and soundlessly replaces the bills in his wallet and walks over towards the concession stand; Jack appears to be completely oblivious as to what just happened. "Got it!" he declares holding up his wallet in victory.

He pays for the drinks as the door opens and Stefan walks through the door. Poor man; he missed the lines of a lifetime by just _moments_!

"Dr. J, Colonel," Stefan says in greeting as he gives them a little five-fingered wave and heads towards the back room. "Kree, come see me as soon as they're gone," he whispers as he passes me.

I say goodbye to my favorite guys, and after making sure Karen (she's new) is okay by herself before head into the backroom.

"What's up?" I ask Stefan as he slips the apron over his head.

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" Stefan asks gleefully. Tomorrow is Friday and Kyle is out of town at some conference or something...

"Not much," I confess.

"Good!" Stefan slaps his hands together in glee. "You're coming over to my apartment."

"I am?"

"You are."

"Any particular reason?" I ask. Evenings with Stefan tend to be...interesting.

"You, Ms. Meyers, are going to be one of ten Colorado preview screeners for a pilot television show!"

"I am?" I ask dubiously. This doesn't sound like too much fun.

"Oh yeah!" Stefan says gleefully as he ties the apron snuggly across his hips.

"You'll love it!" he promises. "It's a science fiction show, and I know you have a thing for aliens."

"So help me Stefan, if this is another show about some testosterone-charged space captain and his love affairs on other planets..."

"You'll _love _it!" Stefan promises again, as he heads out to the floor. "Festivities begin at 7 PM sharp tomorrow - bring wine!"

Sighing, I wonder how I manage to get myself roped into such things. Maybe I should bring _two _bottles of wine; one for the masses, and a separate one for me alone.

* * *

More author's Notes: I actually intended to write one long Barista here, but the first part (pre/post Measures) ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated. Knowing that the _next_ one will probably be both long and funny, I thought it best to break them up. Don't worry, I'll post the follow-up very soon! Besides, Melony (Neuropsych) is currently taunting me by watching MacGyver in the next room, _she _already finished and posted her story for the night - now it's my turn! 

Completed July 6, 2005


	44. The Viewing

**Title:** The Barista 44 - The Viewing**  
Season:** 5  
**Category:** Humor  
**Episode Related:** 512 – Wormhole X-Treme!  
**Rating**: PG-13

**Author's Notes: **This one is pure, unadulterated fun. Enjoy! Oh, and just in case it isn't blatantly clear, I know _nothing _about the television industry and am totally making all of this up.

* * *

"So who'd you sleep with to get this one?" Allison asks, as she settles herself into the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room. Alli used to work at Victor's before she went all high and mighty on us and started her own flower business. I can't wait until I can afford buy her stuff! 

"I resent that!" We hear Stefan shout with exaggerated indignation, as he walks into the room balancing a large bowl of chips in one hand and homemade guacamole and salsa in the other. My mouth salivates at the thought of Stefan's guacamole – the man can _cook_! Or at least jazz up a few avocados.

Stefan really doesn't have a leg to stand on with regards to all of us wondering where the heck he got this television show from. His penchant for dating rather…_interesting _men has long been a source of much merriment for all.

"So what's the story?" Chris asks, taking a large handful of chips and unceremoniously dumping them in his lap for easy-access munching. Wordlessly, Stefan hands him a plate. Stefan met Chris at school. Shockingly, they both took an instant like to one another in spite of having virtually nothing in common. Chris is Hispanic, built like a linebacker and straight as an arrow. Apparently, the two are inseparable on campus and always do their group projects together. The best part is that because Chris is straight, Stefan's current boyfriend, Elliot, isn't jealous.

"We get to beta-view a pilot television show," Stefan explains, taking a seat between Elliot and me on the couch. Damn. Here I am once again, sandwiched between two gorgeous gay men.

I know! Poor me.

Absently, I think of Kyle and wonder what he would think of all of this. He definitely likes Stefan, but I'm not sure if he would have wanted to come to this. Would I have come if he hadn't? And why am I even thinking of things like this? Probably because I have a sinking suspicion that, he wouldn't have liked it.

But then again, I don't know if _I'm _going to like it either.

"Beta-view?" Allison asks, wrinkling her perfectly plucked eyebrows. Mine stay like that for _maybe _three days… I blame it on my rather hirsute Russian ancestry.

"Beta-view," Stefan replies nodding. "We," he begins throwing his arms around Elliot and me, "are a typical American family, testing a television show to see if it's marketable."

All of us burst into laughter. Chris laughs so hard, he nearly chokes. Allison hands him a glass of wine, but he waves it away and heads into the kitchen for a beer. Naturally, he brought his own beer.

"Oh come on," Stefan grouses, as he looks at our amused faces. "It was the only way I could get the tapes. We're about to see something no one has seen before, isn't that exciting?"

"It could be complete crap," Chris offers coming back into the living room.

"Or it might be another X-Files," I offer. Everyone looks hopeful – we're all big fans of the X-Files, in spite of David Duchovny's dissatisfaction with the show, and what we're certain is his last season. Nostalgically, I think back to when the show really _rocked._

"So what are we waiting for," Allison asks as she gets up and grabs the tape from the coffee table. "Let's get this show on the road."

Before the show even begins, we watch several ten, twenty and thirty-second "spots" for the show. 'Wormhole X-Treme!'? _Gee, wonder who they're trying to be? _I laugh at the opening credits.

"Prepare for an X-treme adventure! Four X-cellent heroes in an X-traordinary new sci-fi series! Starring Nick Marlowe as the wry Colonel Danning." We all laugh as Colonel Danning head buts what I'm sure must be an alien and states, "As a matter of fact, it does say Colonel on my uniform." He then grabs some green alien babe and kisses her senseless. I groan, grab the remote control and hit pause.

"Wasn't Nick Marlowe that guy from that soap?" I ask the room. Oh, aren't I the articulate one?

"Oh yeah," Alli says, nodding her head enthusiastically. "He was a frequent guest-star on 'Night Passions' for nearly two years," she sighs happily. "He _so _fathered Brooke's baby."

"That was Justin," Elliot interjects rather primly. Ah Elliot – you are _such _the fag. Oh, I know Stefan is totally gay as well, but usually he just plays the gay card when he's trying to impress or horrify. But Elliot? He's a regular fruit cocktail.

"No way!" Allison disagrees. "Everyone knows he was still trapped in Alaska when she conceived. The baby had to have been Greg's."

"Frozen sperm," Elliot says nodding. "Brooke was artificially inseminated with Greg's sperm."

"I don't believe you."

"I have the whole season on tape and can prove it." Prove it? Who the heck _proves _soap opera stuff?

"But what.."

"Ladies," Chris interjects, addressing both Allison and Elliot. "Can we please get back to the show?" He shoots me a dirty look and silently warns me not to stop the tape again. I can see how badly he wants to take the remote out of my hands. Before beginning again, I ask one last question.

"Did anyone actually _see_ the word 'Colonel' anywhere on that guy's uniform?" Everyone shakes their heads – you'd think the writers would have caught that one. Or maybe it's the producer's job…

"Kira, quit being so critical!" Stefan chastises. "It's just a TV show." I sigh and hit play again before passing off the remote to Stefan and pouring myself another glass of wine. It's going to be a long night.

I watch as the dashing Colonel Danning (dashing, but _short)_ interacts with some brainy military chick who seems fairly cool. For the life of me, I can't understand what the heck she's talking about, but I bet that's the idea. If what she's saying actually turns out to be real science, I'll betcha Kyle would understand. I am happy that she looks rather "normal" and isn't some gorgeous blonde babe in overly tight clothing whose previous career was modeling lingerie.

Next up in this menagerie of space explorers is Dr. Levant who apparently likes to look all pouty as he whines on about alien rights.

Aliens. /_I was kidnapped by aliens/_

Everything seems to slow down as I take in Dr. Levant's heart-felt plea to Danning (not that it did any good) and physical characteristics. He appears to be the same height, same build, has nearly the same glasses and even worries his lip in the _same way _as another Doctor I know.

I blink and quickly look over to Stefan. He just grins at me and shrugs – he sees it too. I know it! Before I can even wrap my mind around what I'm contemplating, I turn back to the TV to hear about Grell the Robot. A _robot_? Oh, come _on_!

We watch another five minutes of spots and then the pilot begins.

With half my brain, I listen to how this round ring thing transports people to and from other planets via a wormhole in space. _Okay, now that is pretty cool._ The show itself is complete sap however, full of slapstick humor and silly plastic props. Very much shades of Star Trek with perhaps a little X-Files thrown in. Colonel Danning is an obvious philanderer with questionable leadership skills; Major Monroe _so _needs to get laid; and can this Grell-bot even speak or is he only capable of raising that solitary eyebrow.

Ah, but it's the other half of my brain that is critically watching Dr. Levant and recording every mannerism, facial expression and word he says. Throughout the 41 minute show, I keep steeling glances at Stefan. At first, I think he's with me, but later I don't see him wondering why it is that Dr. Levant, an _archaeologist and linguist, _looks so damn similar to another archaeologist and linguist that we both know.

He's even wearing Daniel's glasses. I swear those are _exactly _Daniel's glasses.

The show ends and everyone takes a few minutes to stretch, eat and refill their wine glasses (or beer) before we fill out the questionnaire. Apparently, we have to _work _for this free screening.

I really want to corner Stefan for a few minutes, but he is taking the opportunity to play hostess and although he winks at me, doesn't stop long enough to chat. I steal Alli's chair in the corner as we reconvene.

"First question," Stefan says as he brings out the questionnaire. "On a scale of one to ten (ten being high), how would you rate this television show?"

"Six."

"Five."

"Five."

"Seven."

"Four."

Stefan laughs. "Well, this is going to be an interesting survey, isn't it?" He puts down 'five'.

"Question Two: Who was your favorite character?" Before we all blurt out our answers, Stefan amends the question. "I'm going around the room on that one. Let's start with Alli, and move clockwise." We all mumble our agreement

"Danning." Oh, big shocker there.

"Danning." This from Elliot of all people.

"Major Stacy Monroe," Chris says after a moment's pause. Naturally, the straight guy chooses the babe.

"Kira? Who'd you like best?"

"Guess!" I say a little too loud. I felt like I was underwater.

"We have Kira down for Dr. Levant," Stefan remarks casually, as he ticks off a box on his sheet.

"What about you, Stef?" Elliot asks.

"Oh, I thought Grell was just brilliant." _Grell!_

"Question Three: On a scale of one to ten (ten being high), was the show realistic?"

"Oh puh-leeze," I blurt out. "The military guys were walking around with giant 'Xs' on their backs!"

"I liked the 'Xs'," Allison says.

"Needed more glitter." This of course was from Elliot. We average our scores to a robust 'four' and move on.

"Question Four: On a scale of one to ten (ten being high), how would you rate the following: Acting, Costumes, Storyline, Special Effects?"

All of agreed that although the special effects in the beginning were a little weak (their wormhole portal was _so_ lame), the ship at the end was wickedly cool. The storyline was interesting, if rather far-fetched (I know, I know – its science fiction). I thought the acting was pretty mediocre and over-acted, but Ellliot, Allison and Stefan loved it. Chris was closer to my camp on that one. All of agreed that the costumes could be better.

"Question Five: Do you believe in aliens?" Four sets of eyes dart in my direction. Apparently, my reputation precedes me.

"Oh come _on_," I say looking around the room. "This show aside, how can there _not _be alien life out there?"

"No contact," Chris replies.

"Hey, if I were an alien, I'd leave us the hell alone, too," Stefan adds, coming to my aid.

"Do you think there are flowers in outer space?" Ah, Alli – if there's oxygen, I'm sure there would be flowers and trees.

* * *

We go through over a dozen additional questions, some rather silly as they were more about marketing products than the show itself. I answer each question along with everyone else, but my mind can't seem to focus on anything except Dr. Levant. 

/ _Kidnapped by aliens _/

It must be the wine.

"All right, last question," Stefan pauses as he reads it, and then bursts out laughing.

"What's so funny?" I ask. Stefan shakes his head and hands me the paper. I read question ten aloud.

"Are you, or anyone you know independently wealthy, or affiliated with a television network looking to host new programs next fall?"

This show is _so _not going to see the light of day. Although I wonder…

What would Daniel say if I were to show it to him?

* * *

**More Author's Notes: **Cue fade out and X-Files theme music! No, Kira hasn't quite figured it out, but a seed has been planted and you'll just have to wait and see what's in store for her. Thanks to the Yahoo group ( www (dot) moon-catchin (dot) net slash transcripts. for painstakingly transcribing all the SG Transcripts to date. 

Not to put a crimp on your Barista enjoyment, but I have to remind you all (as if you weren't painfully aware of the fact) that we are less than ten episodes away from Meridian. Now, you know as well as I that the events of that show just _might _affect Kira. Seeing how I really don't want you to see it coming, I'm going to stop saying which episode I'm writing about (if any). So from here on out, if you have NOT seen all of the episodes of Season 5, _beware of spoilers_!

I start school again next week (I'll accept your sympathies and pity), so my postings might slow down for the next month or so as I cram an entire quarter's worth (10 weeks) of learning into four weeks. **Question: would you rather read one more Daniel/Kira fic with a bit of the CIA arc thrown in, or are you ready to move on and see what's behind curtain number two?**


	45. Vicissitude

**Title:** Barista 45 -- Vicissitude  
**Season:** 5  
**Spoilers:** I'm Not Saying  
**Category** Nope. I might give too much away.  
**Rating:** See above.

**Author's Notes:** By a 2:1 margin, the voting public have asked for another Kira/Daniel/CIA tale (with a little Jack of course). You all just remember that I bent to The Common Will on this one. There might come a day when I don't... ;o

* * *

It has been 48 hours since I watched that campy Sci-Fi pilot show over at Stefan's, and I'm still pondering over what to say to Daniel. I know one thing for sure – I have to say _something_. I mean, how can I not? Daniel has been teasing (dare I even _think_ hinting?) about his unorthodox job for years – he can't possibly think my questions are anything weirder than what I see and hear every day. 

Or maybe he can. After all, am I really considering…

"Kira."

"I'm listening," I reply automatically, adjusting the telephone to my ear.

"No you're not," Kyle answers tiredly, sounding abjectly disappointed in me. For several seconds there is uncomfortable silence.

_Really_ uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry, Kyle," I say honestly, as I mentally curse myself for letting my attention wander. "You know me and telephones…" I told him on our very first date that I wasn't a very good phone person. I just don't see what the big deal is with the damn things. You want to talk to someone; you talk to them **in person**. And if you can't, you email them.

I never said I was logical.

"I know," Kyle says finally. He sighs and I can feel him shaking his head. "Kira…"

"Don't say it," I reply instantly.

"You don't know what I'm going to say," Kyle says a little defensively.

"Yes, I do." And I do, too. I know exactly what he's going to say, and I don't want to hear it. Not with my mind wrapped around what I'm going to say to Daniel; this whole bizarre CIA thing; figuring out what I'm going to write my dissertation on…

Oh.

The thought hits me like a ton of bricks. There are several very good and valid reasons for what Kyle is about to say.

I beat him to it.

"I'm sorry Kyle," I begin softly. "You're right – this isn't working. And it's completely my fault." My eyes fill with tears. This conversation might be a foregone conclusion, and it might be the right thing to do, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

"I know you are, Kree," Kyle replies sincerely. I'll say one thing for dating a smart guy – he tends to "get" things far faster than the average Joe. He didn't even try to pretend like he didn't know what I was talking about.

Just like I didn't pretend with him. I wipe at my eyes as they begin to leak.

"You're preoccupied Kira," Kyle explains unnecessarily. "I know you have a lot going on, but I need to know that part of what you spend your day thinking about is **me**." I want to contradict him, but I can't. "Even when I'm with you Kira, I don't feel like I'm really _with_ you," he continues. "It's like you're a million light years away, trying to figure out how to teach Sumerian to third graders." Okay, now _that_ was stretching it.

I would never attempt to teach Sumerian to third graders.

Before I can give one of my patented, knee-jerk reactions to his (honest) assessment of me, I surprise myself by agreeing with him. "I know."

"I love you Kira, but we're just not in the same place in our lives right now."

"I know." Way to use multi-syllabic words, Kira. I want to say something – anything – but for the life of me, I can't think of a single thing to say.

In any language.

"Goodbye, Kira." I'm still struggling to come up with the perfect, classy line that will make everything just right… when he hangs up.

* * *

"You're moping," Stefan says, giving me a friendly nudge on the shoulder. 

"I have every reason to mope," I reply, as I systematically take apart the (spare) espresso machine for cleaning. It might have taken me five years, but I can finally take the darn thing apart and put it back together without too much fuss. Cleaning machinery is very therapeutic.

"You know it was the right decision," Stefan says in an attempt to make me feel better.

"Can we talk about something else?" I really don't want to talk about it. I know Stefan is going to push me to do just that, when I'm saved by a bell. Colorado Bell, in fact. Stefan gives me a look that says, 'We're not done, here,' as he picks up the ringing telephone.

"Victor's Coffee," he says pleasantly. I kind of remember the last time I was pleasant…

"Kira?" Stefan repeats, looking at me oddly. "Yeah, she's here. May I tell her who's calling?" I swear, Stefan has the best manners of virtually anyone I know.

Except maybe Daniel…

He listens for a few seconds and his eyes grow large. "Sure, I'll get her for you." He puts the phone on hold and waves me over to him. "You'll want to take this in the back room, Kree," he advises handing me the phone. "It's the CIA."

Surreal doesn't even begin to describe how I feel as I lift up the receiver in the back room. It is 11:00 in the morning here in Colorado Springs, which makes it one-something on the East Coast.

"Hello?"

"Kira Meyers?" A voice asks. I don't recognize the voice, and thankfully, don't hear any giggling either. Although I had only told a handful of people about this whole thing, I know it still could have gotten around.

"Speaking." I never say things like this in "real" life, but it just feels right to be saying it to this disembodied voice from Virginia.

"Hi Kira. My name is Judy – we have emailed a few times regarding possible employment with the Central Intelligence Agency?

Oh  
My  
God

"You're offering me a job?" I squeek out. A warm chuckle reverberates through the phone.

"Oh no, honey – I'm not the one who does things like that!" Judy replies. I'm calling to see if you are available in two weeks for an in-person interview at the Hyatt Regency in Denver."

"Interview?" My voice sounds a little better, but not much. I can't believe this is happening.

"Yes, the Directorate of Intelligence is doing an interview blitz throughout the Midwest next week, and I'm calling to set up an interview time."

"With me?" I really have to stop saying such vastly intelligent things here…

"Yes, dear," she says smiling (I can hear it in her voice). With you." I don't have my calendar with me; I have no idea what my schedule is either at work or school; Instantly, I tell her I would. We talk logistics for a few minutes and she explains how all of this had been emailed to me last week, but apparently the message had been returned, which is why she was calling me directly. I'm way too stunned to even attempt to guess what might be wrong with my school email account.

I give Judy an alternate email address, and she lets me know that I can call her at any time if I have additional questions.

* * *

I'm trying hard not to think about the impending CIA interview. Instead, I'm thinking about Daniel and trying to come up with The Perfect Way to ask him about that television show. I actually don't see him for nearly a week, and do a double-take when he and Jack do appear – they're dressed in fatigues! Now it isn't so odd to see Jack dressed like this, but I've never actually seen Daniel clad in soldier attire, and it completely throws my game plan off kilter. I still have every intension of asking him about the show (and who knows - perhaps there is a very good reason why one of the characters in that God-awful pilot reminded me of him) but first I need to find out why he's dressed like an army guy. 

Air Force guy.

"We have plenty of time, Daniel," Jack says as he pushes his friend inside. "You know you want it." I really hope they're talking about coffee here.

"It isn't that I don't want a decent cup of coffee, Jack," Daniel says, catching my eye and smiling. "It's just that I told Sam we'd meet her at 8."

"Carter can explain to the youngsters what to expect," Jack insists, clapping Daniel on the shoulder. "I need caffeine." I chuckle to myself as I hear Jack sounding very Daniel-like. "Besides," Jack says smiling widely, "you're buying."

"I am?" Daniel asks.

"Absolutely!" Jack replies. "We all decided that whoever is the…" Jack pauses for just a nanosecond, "bad guy, and thus has the easier of assignments, has to buy the rest of the team coffee."

"We did?" Daniel asks, frowning. "When did we decide that?"

"Carter, T' and I decided while you were getting cleared by Fraiser."

"Yeah, what's with that, Jack?" Daniel asks, completely ignoring the fact that his team apparently voted him as coffee boy when he wasn't looking. "We're not exactly going far, and we _still_ have to be cleared by Janet? Does that seem right to you?"

"I don't make the rules, Danny, I just follow them." Daniel snorts.

"Right, Jack." Daniel orders their drinks (drip for Jack, double tall Americano for himself) and gives Jack a glinty look. "You know, I think I'm going to enjoy shooting you this afternoon."

"Well maybe I'll just shoot myself and prevent you from having all the fun," Jack replies. Now before I can even begin to decipher this conversation, they both turn (as one!) and look at me.

"Pretend, Kira," Daniel explains. "Our team is training some Air Force recruits today."

"And in this 'scenario', one of you shoots Jack?" I'm so not understanding this.

"It's a simulation, Kira," Jack explains. "We're trying to gauge how well these kids do during various simulated situations."

"And this one…?"

"This is the one will the Archaeologist gets his revenge and shoots everyone!" Daniel replies almost gleefully.

"I'm having Carter shoot me," Jack mutters. He and Daniel head over to the condiments area. "Kira, do you have any more cream?" Jack asks, holding up an empty carafe. Damn. I knew there was something I needed to do before the morning rush starts.

"Sorry about that Jack," I reply as I quickly pull out some half and half from the fridge. I'm in such a hurry to bring it to him, that I completely forget about our recent delivery of beans (usually delivered in the back, but the new driver was confused and dropped it off in the front), and trip over the bags lying between me and the empty cream canister. Right into and pretty much on top of Daniel.

Déjà vu!

Jack has amazing reflexes, as he catches the cream container before it splats all over the floor, and Daniel (bless him) catches me. I'm not really complaining here (as if being pressed against Daniel is ever a problem), but I did have momentum on my side, and hit him pretty hard.

"Geeze, I'm sorry about that guys," I apologize slowly disentangling myself from Daniel's chest. "Daniel are you all right?"

"I'm fine Kira," Daniel answers. Instantly, I jump out of his arms and fall back over the bags of coffee. What the hell?

"Daniel!" I ask, completely freaking out. "What the hell is wrong with your voice?"

"What?" Daniel says, looking completely mystified. I'm contemplating hyper-ventilating now. What is going on, here? Voices are _not_ meant to sound like that!

"Ah dammit, Daniel!" Jack says angrily, reaching into Daniel's jacket. "What the hell are you doing wearing that thing already?" Realization flashes across Daniel's face. He smacks Jack's hand away, and taps at his chest before reaching down to help me up.

"I'm _so_ sorry about that Kira!" Daniel says (in a normal voice, thank God). I look up at him in confusion.

"What's going on, Daniel?"

"Yes,_ Daniel_," Jack repeats. "Explain to Ms. Meyers here why you scared the living crap out of her!" Jack is not a happy camper right now. Neither is Daniel, it seems.

"It's a voice box, Kira," Daniel explains, taking out a little black box. "We're pretty much going to use it to elicit the same reaction out of the recruits as it did to you."

"You're going to _scare_ them into falling backwards over a bag of beans?" I reply shakily. Jack chuckles.

"Maybe not the beans part," Jack adds. "But we are trying to throw them a couple curve balls. We've found that a modulated voice box, combined with certain scenarios tends to bring out the best or worst in recruits. It is a very effective teaching aid." Effective for **whom**?

I'm still a bit shaken, but decide to use this (this being my discombobulation and their obvious guilt) to my advantage.

"Daniel?" I ask as he helps me to my feet.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever seen or heard of a television show called 'Wormhole X-Treme'? Much to my surprise, it is Jack that looks a little taken back.

"You saw that!" Jack asks.

"Yeah," I reply. Yet again, I am completely confused. "You saw it as well?" I thought for sure (well, maybe) Daniel was somehow involved, but I sure didn't think Jack was!

"Jack was Wormhole's 'Technical Advisor'," Daniel says doing the whole bunny ear quote thing.

"You worked on that show, Jack?"

"Very briefly," Jack replies hastily, as if embarrassed by the whole thing. Which he probably is. I look back and forth between Jack and Daniel and don't understand what I'm seeing. Jack is the one who looks uncomfortable, not Daniel. Now, why would Jack be uncomfortable?

Then I get it.

"You're responsible!" I say, pointing at Jack. "Now, it makes sense!"

"What makes sense?" Jack asks, looking confused.

"You're the reason why that one character, that Dr. Levant guy, looks so much like Daniel."

"I am?" Jack asks. Now it's Daniel's turn to chuckle.

"Oh you caught that, did you?" Daniel says.

"Caught what?" Jack asks. Jack really needs to drink his coffee – he's a bit slow on the uptake this morning.

"_Kira_ caught the _similarity_ in the Dr. Levant character and myself," Daniel explains, slowly, to Jack.

"Why is everyone saying that!" Jack moans. "That Nick guy looks _nothing _ like me…"

"Kira is talking about **me** Jack," Daniel interrupts. "You know, archaeologist, linguist, works with the military…"

"Only instead of helping them out around here, apparently you do it on other worlds!" I'm cracking myself up here.

"So you saw some similarities between Daniel and that Levant guy," Jack repeats.

"Yep," I reply, nodding.

"Damn. And here I thought I was being subtle," Jack continues.

"Ha!" I exclaim. "You can't be subtle when you're talking about sending an archaeologist through a wormhole, Jack!"

"No," Jack says wryly, "I guess I can't." Daniel just stands there shaking his head.

"Kira, I'd love to know more about what you thought of the show," Daniel says, "but we need to get going."

"Yes. Going," Jack repeats. "Have recruits to scare and all that."

"Don't be too mean, Jack." I turn towards Daniel. "And try not to talk too much with that thing on, Daniel," I say. "It's pretty damn creepy."

"I'll try not too," Daniel says. I walk them to the door. They're already several yards down the street when I realize something.

"Daniel!" I shout after him. He turns back towards me.

"What is it, Kira?" Maybe it's for the best that all of this is rushed – no chance for Daniel to ask questions.

"Would you be a reference for me on a job application?" I ask in one breath. Daniel grins.

"Absolutely, Kira! I promise to say nothing but wonderful things about you!"

"That's great," I reply feeling a little guilty. "I'll tell you all about it the next time you come in."

"I look forward to it, Kira," Daniel says.

Good thing one of us does.

* * *

The interview is scheduled for 9:00 on a Thursday, with an Information Session to be held the evening before. I borrow a friend's car and drive up to Denver early Wednesday morning. I actually looked into staying at the Hyatt Regency to ensure that I get to everything on time. However, the_ cost_ of just a single night in that place, is nearly what I earn a week at Victors (part time, remember). I'm sticking to the original plan and staying with my aunt and uncle in Englewood. I'll commute the twenty minutes or so needed to get into Denver in the morning. 

The ride up is uneventful, and I surprise myself by listening to classical music on the drive up (it was in the tape deck). I'm actually somewhat calm and feel pretty confident, as I take the proper exit and head into the city. I pay $10 and park in a nice secure lot with large spaces; there is no way I'm going to attempt to parallel park in a car that is not even my own – especially today.

I'm early of course, and as much as I want to head to The Tattered Cover (one of the best bookstores **ever**), I know that isn't the best of ideas. Besides, I'm really not near either of their stores. Can you imagine showing up late with the excuse that you lost track of time because you were _browsing_ in a bookstore? I shudder at the thought, lock the doors and head towards the most comfortable place I know – a coffee shop.

It is very strange to be a "professional" barista in another shop. Dressed in my somewhat casual (the fancy one is for tomorrow) power suit, I know I must look like one of the business workers in the area. To make matters worse, I don't actually _like_ coffee, so while I am finding comfort in the smell and all around chaos of the place, I can't just order a coffee and loiter. Instead, I order an iced tea. I accept my drink, tip the Barista and grab a seat next to a window in the corner. Within seconds I'm a combination bored/nervous. I take out my phone and call Stefan.

"I'm here," I say as he answers the phone.

"Any problems with the drive up?"

"Naaa," I reply shaking my head.

"Nervous?" I guffaw loudly in his ear.

"What do you think?" I ask.

"I think you reapplied anti-perspirant right as you exited the car, and are currently wondering if perhaps you shouldn't have chosen a different pair of shoes other than the Birkenstocks."

"I am not wearing Birkenstocks," I reply hotly. I actually changed _out of_ the Birks as I left the car. I'm wearing ever so fashionable (and practical) sandals now. He's right about the deodorant though.

"Uh huh," Stefan replies. I can hear him grinning through the phone. "You'll do find Kira," he says sincerely. "Just don't ask too many questions, try not to fidget, and whatever you do, don't pick your nose."

"Stefan!" Several people turn around at my outburst. "You're incorrigible," I remark, lowering my voice.

"Happily so," Stefan replies. "I have to go now, Kree – you'll do fine, don't worry about it."

"Thanks, Stefan," I answer feeling a little choked up. My friends _rock_. "I'll call you tomorrow after the interview."

"You'd better!" he insists. "Otherwise, I might sic Elliott on you." I'm smiling as we say our goodbyes.

I loiter for another thirty minutes, watching the baristas interact with "their" customers. I feel a twinge of something I can't quite articulate as I realize that sometime in the next year, I'm going to be leaving this job job I love. By choice, of course, but I know I'm going to have to. As much as I adore Victor and the shop and all the wonderful folks I work with – my future doesn't belong in coffee. Feeling a bit sad and nostalgic, I head across the street towards the Regency.

The first thing I notice as I nervously find the proper room and step inside is that there are no 'men in black'. In fact, most of the CIA staff present are women and they look quite normal in their pant suits. They're all older than I am, but are smiling and walking around introducing themselves to the other candidates. I give my name to the woman at the door (not Judy) and find a seat in the back row of the bank of tables. There are maybe ten other students/candidates in the room and it sounds like many of them are from CU. I feel like a country cousin.

The information session begins and once again, we are told how many applications the Central Intelligence Agency receives every month, and why all of us sitting in this room are possible candidates for intelligence work.

The hairs on my arms stand up as she says that.

The woman giving the presentation tells us a bit about her background and using Power Point slides, begins to give us a structural overview of the CIA. Everyone in the room are candidates to work for the DI – the Directorate of Intelligence. The DI, DST (Directorate of Science and Technology) and DO (Directorate of Operations) all report to the DCI (Director of Central Intelligence). Complete acronym soup!

I am so glad they didn't peg me for work in the DO. Those are the guys that go on "ops" and do all the scary things in foreign countries. A little light bulb flickers briefly in the back of my head. Hmmm – that sounds like something Jack would do.

The presenter goes on to tell us how the DI is divided into three main regional sections: Asia, Latin America & Africa; Near Eastern and South Asia; and Russia & Europe. Each of those areas has eight functional offices: terrorism, counter intelligence, weapons/intel/non-proliferation, crime & narcotics, information operations, collection strategies & analysis, chemical & biological, and transitional issues.

I'm taking detailed notes and wonder where they want to stick me. I mean, they must have to have some idea based on my skills and writing sample, yes?

The presentation continues with discussion on how much we'd get paid (salary is based on education and language skills). I follow this part with interest. Apparently, once I get my degree, I should be a 'GS-9' and depending on how many other languages I know (and if they're useful), I can receive up to $35,000 _extra_. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head right there. In theory, I could start working for them at $75,000.

Currently I make $18,000 and owe $25,000 in school loans.

We learn a little about what our day would be like working for the DCI and I am really surprised by how much cooperation there seems to be between agencies. Several different people come up and talk to us about their day-to-day experiences and it's pretty damn cool! One woman explained how she had worked for a year or so in the Latin American group, when one day she received a phone call (at home) at 3:00 in the morning, informing her that there had been a coup, and they needed some intelligence from her. Well, you aren't allowed to bring anything classified home with you (and of course can't talk about it on an un-secured line), so she had to head back into work to gather the data needed by the folks in the field. Almost three "nights" in a row, she would head home, only to be told that she was needed back at work. International security! Wow. I can't even imagine working on something so important. I have to admit, that alone makes it sound very worthwhile.

We take a quick break, and then the presentation on Security Clearance begins. The security officer quickly cuts to the chase and give us all the bad news first - getting top-secret clearance is not easy. It's not only intrusive and time consuming. It can take up to **nine months** for clearance! She also tells us about drugs. Now, everyone in the room had said, a) "No I haven't smoked pot in the last 12 months" and b) "No I haven't done drugs in the last seven years. Well, apparently, statistically speaking, two of us are lying! How's that for nutty?

She goes on to tell us about 'SF86' (the standard security form) and how we will be checked out by all the national security agencies, as well as having a very detailed history of our credit report pulled. There will of course be a polygraph and they will be talking to both your formal references as well as "other sources" who know you.

I think I'm nervous about those "other sources".

But the part that really makes me stop and think is this: If I am offered a position with the CIA, and if I accept, I pretty much lose my privacy for the duration of my employment with them. Anytime I go visit a friend outside the US, I have to let them know. If I meet someone "outside the Agency" for coffee or racquetball or something – I have to let someone know. I am not allowed to volunteer my time for a political party/person and I can't publish anything related to my field without going through a rather arduous review process.

And all my friends will be checked out as well.

I'm a little more somber as I leave the conference room and head back to the car. I really am excited about the type of work I might be allowed to do with them, but on the other hand, I'd have to work in Virginia. All my friends would be "checked out" and then I would leave them! And I really don't know how I feel about not being able to publish outside of the Agency… I wonder if Daniel had to go through any of this when he accepted a position with the military. I mean, it might not be "top secret" clearance, but I bet Daniel had to sign a few forms and such. Lord knows there are plenty of things he isn't allowed to tell **me** about. On second thought – maybe he _does_ have 'top secret' clearance. Maybe that's why he can't tell me anything.

Maybe Daniel and Jack actually work for the CIA!

I laugh at myself as I reach the car and unlock the door. Right Kira. Both Jack and Daniel work for a top-secret government organization inside a mountain in central Colorado.

And pigs fly.

* * *

**More Author's Musings**: rubs hands together in anticipation Well? Did you like? And just look at the length of this puppy! I don't think I'll be sitting in on Kira's interview, but you'll hear about it in other ways. knowing grin 

Show of hands here – how many knew what 'vicissitude' meant without looking it up? For those who haven't/didn't/was going to do so later (and are curious), one of the definitions for 'vicissitude' vi-si-tood is: "One of the sudden or unexpected changes or shifts often encountered in one's life, activities, or surroundings". Seems like a good fit, yes?

For those interested, you can see an actual, honest to goodness organization chart of the U.S. Intelligence network on my website (see profile). Scary isn't it? The Directorate of Central Intelligence (DCI) is at the top. laughs I swear I do not work for them!

Serious note – In "real" time, 9/11 took place sometime between Wormhole X-treme and Proving Ground. This means that Kira's interview was more than likely after 9/11; in the next story, you'll even hear Daniel refer to it. However, the subject matter surrounding the terrorists attacks in the United States is just too complicated (and painful) for me to write a story around. Just pretend I'm an actual SG writer…

The next chapter is pretty much writing itself - I should post within a week! But don't get too spoiled now - this _was _(officially) the longest Barista chapter ever. Both Kira and I should finish our Masters around the same time (which is damn coincidental as I started this series before I had even _applied_), so do know that my uneven and sporadic updates are not without reason. ;)

Completed August 5, 2005


	46. Crossing the Rubicon

**Title:** Barista 46 -- Crossing the Rubicon  
**Season:** 5  
**Spoilers:** I'm Not Saying  
**Category** Stop asking. I'm not going to tell you.  
**Rating:** See above - if you want to know more - read the notes at the bottom of Barista 44.

**Author's Notes:** This one isnt written like a traditional Barista (Kira, first person), and reads pretty much like an everyday Stargate story (third person, team). I honestly cant recall if Ive done one like this before Regardless, this one is fun and a wee bit pivotal (Damn. That was a hint, wasnt it?) Hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing it.

* * *

"Good morning, campers!" Jack O'Neill said jovially, as he sauntered into the gate room promptly at 0600. "Everyone ready for a fun-filled day on P7X-…" he looked at Major Carter expectantly. 

"421 sir," Sam replied with a smile before continuing. "It's approximately 0900 on the planet, and we should have between four and a half and five hours of sunlight in order to reach our destination and set up camp." She was fairly certain the Colonel knew exactly where they were going, and why they needed to leave so early (elliptically speaking, the planet was incredible!), but if he liked to play the bumbling colonel every now and then, she wouldn't call his bluff. This was of course what a good 2IC did.

"I was just about to say that, Carter," Jack said with a wave of his hand. He adjusted the brim of his cap and seeing that his team was present and accounted for, gave Walter the signal to dial it up.

"Sleep well, Teal'c?" Jack asked conversationally as the gate began to move.

"I successfully kelnoreemed, O'Neill," Teal'c replied in his usual even tone. After all these years, Jack O'Neill was still somewhat of an enigma to Teal'c. He could remain on watch for hours without scarcely moving, yet seldom could stay still (or quiet) for the sixteen seconds the gate took to lock onto an address. Curious.

"One of these days, I'll give that another go," Jack remarked as the third chevron locked. He leaned in slightly towards Teal'c. "I don't _have to_ shave my head, right?"

Daniel listened to the morning banter dispassionately and concentrated hard on not yawning. It really was unfair how chipper Jack O'Neill was at 6 AM. Jack had this uncanny ability to not only come instantly awake no matter what the hour, but usually to do so in a good mood. Well, that is unless there was a very good reason for him _not _to be in a good mood. Say, waking up in a Goa'uld cell, or meeting the Tok'ra (especially Anise) – these tended to make Jack a little grumpy. No, Jack O'Neill was definitely a morning person.

Daniel Jackson on the other hand, was not.

Oh sure, he had worked on many digs. Often due to the location and extreme temperatures, Daniel usually had to be up with the sun (if not before). Many times, Daniel completely forgot about the early hour because he was so excited to get started on his work. However, that didn't make him necessarily a morning person. No, in order for him to be a true morning person, Daniel needed coffee - preferably a double tall Americano from Victors. Making his own using the French Press Sam had gotten him all those years ago was good – but it just wasn't the same.

And he never had enough refills.

Daniel sighed and mentally crossed his fingers that the mission would go smoothly and they would be back by Wednesday; he really needed to talk to Kira. Daniel frowned slightly as he felt the outlines of a single piece of paper in his front jacket pocket. On second thought, he _really_ needed to talk to Jack.

The bad news was that the source of the naquadah readings was a good 15 kilometers from the gate and the solar day ended in less than six hours. The good news was that it was a beautiful day.

Jack idly thumbed the safety of his P90 and wondered what was going on with Daniel. Yeah, sure this mission wasn't archaeological in nature, but Daniel usually had plenty to say about the planet. He hadn't spoken more than a few words to either Sam or Teal'c, and hadn't said _anything_ to Jack except to indicated when he needed to pee.

Something was going on, and as leader of SG-1 (not to mention Daniel's friend), it was up to Jack to figure it out. He slowed down his pace until he and Daniel were walking side by side.

"Nice day," Jack said conversationally. He grimaced even as the words came out of this mouth; he _so_ sucked at small talk.

"Yeah, it is," Daniel replied sullenly, as he continued walking straight ahead. He was too lost in his own thoughts to really pay any attention to Jack. Jack was slightly surprised (and more than a little proud) to see that although Daniel's thoughts seemed to be a million miles away, he was holding his weapon correctly and his eyes really did appear to be tracking the terrain ahead.

_Wow. He really does know what he's doing these days. _

Deciding to forego small talk completely, Jack stopped short and turned to face Daniel. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" Daniel frowned.

"Well, I was walking…" Daniel began.

"Oh, cut the crap, Daniel," Jack interrupted good-naturedly. Daniel might be in a foul mood, but Jack felt just fine. "Something has been bugging you since we left the SGC – and it's more than the fact that we left too early for you to get a decent cup of coffee." In spite of himself, Daniel half-smiled. Jack knew about that, did he?

"You couldn't convince Hammond to let us leave just thirty minutes later?" Daniel whined, trying to keep the topic off of him. He had actually forgotten all about his missed coffee, but now that Jack had brought it up…

"Hey, it was Carter's call," Jack backpedaled, holding up a hand in defense. Okay, so _technically _it was his call because he was CO, but it _was_ Carter who had told him about the three-hour "gate lag" between worlds. Not to mention the fact that each "day" on this world was just sixteen hours long; six hours of sunlight and ten hours of darkness. Was it his fault that it made the most sense to get an early start?

"Yeah, I know," Daniel replied, having already forgotten the pain of foregoing his morning coffee.

"So, what's up?" Daniel stared into his friend's eyes and knew he couldn't wait any longer. After three hours of walking, he was pretty certain the planet was Goa'uld- free and there didn't seem to be any human colonies close to the gate. No major predators, no sentient vines… now was as good a time as any. Daniel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. An extremely well-read piece of paper.

"Do you know what this is, Jack?" Daniel asked, waving the paper in his friend's face.

"No Daniel, I can't say that I do," Jack replied calmly. Jack's first reaction was 'divorce papers', but of course that couldn't be it. Funny what comes back to a guy after six years…

"At first I thought it was a joke," Daniel began as he started pacing up and down the mossy floor of the forest. "I mean, it had to be a joke…" Daniel's voice trailed off as he glanced down at the paper in his hands.

"Daniel, what does the letter say?" Jack asked gently. Whatever it was, it was obviously making Daniel very upset. Ipso facto - Jack was now upset

"It's from the CIA." Jack's brain froze for a moment as he did a mental double take. Well _that _was unexpected.

"The CIA wrote you a letter?" Jack asked, needing clarification. It was bad enough having the NID breathing down their necks, if his team was being harassed by the Central Intelligence Agency (although what the hell would those spooks want with them?), Jack needed to know.

"Yeah," Daniel answered morosely, glancing down at the paper again. "Jack, they even had my current address!" Considering how many times Daniel had moved or been declared dead, this was actually quite impressive.

"What does the letter say, Daniel?" Jack repeated, looking at his friend expectantly.

"It's a reference check," Daniel replied darkly as he started walking again.

"A reference check," Jack repeated matching Daniel's pace.

"Yes."

"Someone you know is looking to work for the CIA?" Daniel had oodles of scientists working under him. While Jack couldn't imagine anyone quitting a job at the SGC in order to work for the CIA, stranger things had happened. Say aliens building the pyramids for example.

"Someone we _both _know," Daniel clarified. He gave Jack a quick glance as he continued to walk forward. For the life of him, Jack could not think of anyone they both knew (at least someone close) who would ever want to work for the CIA – especially someone who would ask _Daniel _for a reference check before himself. Unless it was a scientist…

"Dr. Lee!" Jack said, snapping his fingers. "You didn't give him that raise he asked for and…"

"It wasn't Bill, Jack," Daniel scoffed in reply. "Besides, I _did_ give him a 6 raise. He deserved it."

"You did?"

"Yep."

"I think Lee makes more than me," Jack mused aloud.

"_I_ still make more than Bill, Jack."

"So, only _you _make more than me, then." Jack clarified.

"Well, I did decipher the Stargate after all…" This was a familiar game for the two men. Daniel actually _did_ make more than Jack – but he didn't have a military pension nearly as good. Neither of the men were materialistic, and neither spent even half the money they earned (saving the world usually resulted in a hefty Christmas bonus), so the _slight_ discrpency in pay wasn't a big deal.

"I give up Daniel," Jack said after thinking about it for a few more seconds. "Who do we _both _know that is applying to the CIA?"

"Kira."

"Kira?"

"Kira," Daniel affirmed with a nod.

"_Our_ Kira?" Jack repeated, still not believing what Daniel was telling him.

"Yeah." Both men walked in silence for several moments.

"Intelligence Officer?" Jack asked, curiosity piqued.

"It doesn't say," Daniel replied holding up the letter to read for the thirty-second time. "I don't think so."

"Well, we'll just assume no on that one, shall we?" Jack added. "After all, she has known _us_ for nearly five years and I'd hate to think we were some kind of test…"

"Jack, you're missing the point!" Daniel cried, stopping again as he faced his friend. "Kira wants to work for the **CIA**!"

"And you _don't_ want Kira to work for the CIA," Jack clarified.

"God, of course not!" Daniel replied vehemently. "Do you?"

"Daniel," Jack answered patiently. "If I remember correctly, you also didn't want her to work for the Air Force or any branch of the military service."

"It's a post 9/11 world, Jack!" Daniel replied in a loud voice. "**Of course**, I don't want her working for the military!"

"She's going to graduate soon, Daniel," Jack continued, in a rational voice. "She'll need to do more with her life than make a damn fine cup of coffee."

"I know that!" Daniel cried angrily. He just didn't know what to do about it. Or rather he _did… _

"Where do you see her working, Daniel?" Jack asked softly. Being the smart guy that he was, Jack had a fairly good idea of what Daniel was going to say next.

"Here, Jack." Daniel let out a long sigh and stopped moving.

"P7X-421?" Jack knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he just couldn't resist.

"Jack, would you be serious!" Daniel was in no mood for games. "I see her working with us. Here. Earth-here, that is. At the SGC." Jack nodded and looked thoughtful. He took a moment to look around. _Ah trees..._

"Carter, Teal'c you copy?" Jack asked as he keyed his mike.

"We copy, sir," Sam replied.

"I am here, O'Neill."

"We're going to stop here for the night. Why don't you and Teal'c do a perimeter sweep while Daniel and I get the tents set up?" Sam was a _very_ good 2IC; she completely understood the Colonel's veiled order. He wanted to talk to Daniel. Alone.

"Understood, sir," she replied. "Teal'c and I will circle around and come back to you from the south. I anticipate it will take us twenty minutes."

"I believe it will be closer to thirty minutes, MajorCarter," Teal'c added. Jack looked away so Daniel couldn't see his lips twist upwards in a small smile – his team _rocked_! Daniel meanwhile had taken off his backpack and had begun to rummage around in search of the elusive tent.

"That would be great, T'. Yell if you need anything – O'Neill out."

"I think Teal'c has the tents," Daniel said, as he looked up from his half-open backpack. "I have the stove and fuel, Sam has the food, you have the.."

"Daniel."

"Well, you have to have one of the tents," Daniel corrected. "Because Teal'c shouldn't be carrying both of them…"

Daniel!"

"What!"

"Come here." Jack waved his friend over to a "clean" bit of a log. "Pull up a stump." Daniel's shoulders slumped as he allowed his pack to fall over and plopped down next to Jack on a mossy bit of wood.

"You want Kira to work for the SGC," Jack repeated.

"Yes." Daniel picked up a broken stick and began to dig in the dirt like a petulant child.

"You want Kira to work _for you_ at the SGC." It was best if Jack fully understood the situation at hand.

"Yes." More digging. Had Daniel not been so intent on his digging, he would have seen Jack break into a very large and sincere grin.

"Well, it's about frickin' time!" Jack declared, slapping Daniel on the back. The jolt, combined with Jack's words caused Daniel to nearly fall of his log.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me," Jack replied, eyes dancing with merriment.

"You _want_ Kira to work for the SGC?" Daniel knew Jack liked Kira, but he never imagined that he would agree to this.

"Daniel, I knew I wanted Kira to work at the SGC since the day your appendix decided to give up the ghost and Kira was there to save your ass." Jack grinned. "And not for the first time, I might add." Daniel was speechless.

"You've wanted Kira at the SGC for over **a year**!"

"Yep."

"And you never **said **anything?" Jack chuckled as he shook his head.

"Daniel, I take it you want her with you – your team, I mean." Jack was 99.9 certain that Daniel and Kira's friendship was platonic, but there was that very strange day after Shifu…

"Of course I want her on my team!" Daniel cried, not catching any of Jack's innuendos. "She's brilliant, Jack! She has this amazing ability to look at a new language and figure out how to not just speak it – but organize it. Catalog it – make it available for others. I _need_ someone like that on my team."

"Then she's yours," Jack said simply. "I mean, if she agrees that is."

"That's it?" Daniel was stunned at how easy this was.

"Daniel," Jack said with a sigh, "I did a cursory background on Kira two years ago."

"What!" Instantly, Daniel was on edge.

"Hold on – hold on, let me explain."

"Please do." Now _this_ sounded like the Jack he knew.

"When the hell did you lose your trust, Daniel?" Jack asked, completely taken back. He knew that Daniel had been thrown a curve ball here, but seriously, there was something going on with young Doc Jackson. Jack made a mental note to try to figure it out in the next couple of weeks. He knew it couldn't possibly be all about Kira. Jack tried a different tack.

"Daniel," he started in a sincere voice. "It isn't unusual at all for me, or anyone in the higher ranks of the military, to run background checks on civilians that are spending a lot of time with our people."

"Really?"

"Really," Jack affirmed with a nod. "Remember last year when that that new guy, Collins I think his name was, left the SGC without notice?" Daniel vaguely remembered the incident. Gary Collins was a civilian contractor who had worked in biomedical. He nodded at Jack to continue.

"Well, it turned out that he was having a relationship with a cocktail waitress across town." Daniel looked at him expectantly. "She wasn't a cocktail waitress, Daniel."

"NID?"

"Yeah."

"Kira, is **not** NID, Jack."

"Of course she isn't, Daniel! I'm just making a point here."

"Your point being that you check up on people?"

"Yes!"

"You just _randomly_ decided to do a background check on our Kira?"

"God, Daniel! You can be so damn dense sometimes!" Jack cried in exasperation. "I _wanted_ her to work for the SGC!"

"You did?"

"Of course, I did! I knew right away that she wouldn't be interested in the military, but I was sure hoping she'd continue studying languages. And do you know how long those background checks can take…"

"Well then why didn't you _tell _me, Jack!" Daniel was pissed. Pissed that Jack had run a check on Kira. Pissed that he hadn't told Daniel about it. Pissed that…

_"Because_ Daniel, I knew she'd be _your _employee."

"So?" Daniel simmered with belligerence and hurt.

"Daniel," Jack said taking his friends by both shoulders and roughly turning him towards himself. "She would be working _for you_. I couldn't very well tell you whom to hire."

"Since when has that…" Daniel's voice suddenly lost all traces of anger and animosity as he realized that Jack was right. "You've never told me who I can or can't hire." Daniel stated quietly.

"Nope."

"In fact, you've never bothered me at all about my staff." Realization hit Daniel like a pail of cold water.

"Uh uh," Jack agreed shaking his head. "I might have annoyed you about everything _else_ under God's green earth, but never that."

"No," Daniel said nearly inaudibly. "You never have." A great whoosh of air whistled through his teeth as his head dropped heavily towards his hands. "I'm such an ass."

"Occasionally," Jack agreed amicably.

"So, let me get this straight, Jack," Daniel began. "You ran a check on Kira _two _years ago."

"Yes."

"And you've been waiting all this time for me to come to you and say I wanted her on my team?"

"Pretty much," Jack said shrugging. "I was curious which direction she would go with graduate school, but after she went to **Egypt**, I knew it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that she'd have to work for us."

Silence.

"You really didn't become a Colonel because of your looks, did you Jack?"

"Well, it didn't _hurt.."_ Jack replied smiling, mentally sighing with the knowledge that everything was going to be okay. At least today anyhow. Off in the distance they could hear Teal'c and Sam returning. He helped Daniel to his feet as Teal'c appeared through the trees.

"Everything all right?" Sam asked worriedly. Something had obviously been bothering Daniel for a while, and Sam hoped he and the Colonel had talked about it.

"I believe so," Jack replied. "We good, Daniel?" He looked a little uncertainly at his friend.

"We're good," Daniel replied with an affirmative nod. He looked down at the crumpled paper in his hand.

"So, what are you going to do?" Jack asked. Now that Daniel knew that _he_ wanted Kira at the SGC as well, Daniel had some decisions to make. Daniel looked at his team, eyes twinkling with delight.

"Make her a better offer."

* * *

So are you smiling? Grinning even? My goal here is to have each and every one of you positively bouncing up and down in happiness (I figure if **I am**, it's only fair you are too). Ah, but how is Daniel going to tell her? And what will our girl say? These, and other questions will be answered in the next exciting installment of.. The Barista! (Lol. Sorry - I couldn't resist!) Please let me know what you thought of this - there were so many ways this could have played out, and I really want to know if this worked for you. And if you have time - please sign my guestbook! It's shiny new and makes me happy. g 

Thank you to Flatkatsi, Redbyrd and Shado for their pre-posting advice and a very special thank you to Louise who was with me all those months ago when the idea for this one struck. Thanks for the unflagging support Lou!

And just in case youre curious as to the title, here's the definition: The Rubicon is a river in Italy and (so the saying goes) the one that Julian Caesar led his army over the river and thus began a civil war. In common vernacular, the phrase is used to mean take the decisive step, bite the bullet, or make ones move. Now does it make sense?

And finally - if you are so hankering - please visit my homepage (it's in the profile) www dot dietcokechic dot com slash stargate and sign my guestbook. It's shiny new and makes me smile.

Completed August 12, 2005


	47. Two Weeks

**Title:** Barista 47 -- Two Weeks  
**Season:** 5  
**Spoilers:** Yep, there are a couple in here.  
**Category**: Either Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Humor or Romance  
**Rating:** Somewhere between G and R. Why am I being so enigmatic? See the notes section of Barista 44

**Author's Notes:** No long intro - just read.

* * *

I watch the child holding tightly to the polished chains and smile. 

When I was little, I used to love to swing. I remember going to the park with my dad and pumping my legs for all they were worth, begging him to push me harder so I could swing just a little bit higher. My favorite part of each push was that moment, that brief instant when you reached consensus with gravity and felt like anything was possible. Perhaps this push would be the one that would send you up and over the swing set (the secret wish of all young children). Or maybe gravity would release you all together and permit you to fly off towards the stars. As crazy as it seems, I'm kind of feeling like I'm back on that swing set again.

"Kira?" Startled, I turn back towards the smells and sounds around me. It's really hard to be pensive when you're on a staff picnic.

"Sorry, Stefan - I was zoning." _Way to state the obvious, Meyers._ Stefan, bless his heart, instantly understands why and leads me away from the boisterous gathering.

"Sit," he orders, directing me to the edge of a non-working fountain. We might have some gorgeous spring days here in CS, but the City has learned the hard way that it's best not to turn the water back on in public spaces until **after **Memorial Day. Sure, a lot of people thought the frozen ice sculptures in the public parks were pretty, but the burst pipes were expensive to replace.

"You nervous about defending your dissertation?" I shake my head.

"Not really," I reply. "I feel pretty good about my thesis." I should - I had a lot of help with it.

"It's the…" his voice drops even though there is no one around. "It's the Agency, isn't it?" I can't help but laugh.

"Geeze Stefan, you make it sound like I'm becoming a spy!"

"Well, aren't you?" He asks seriously.

"Not a **spy**!" I answer with assurance.

"But the CIA ," Stefan begins. "You might really work for the CIA ."

I don't know," I reply shrugging. "It's an amazing offer…," my voice falters as I try to find words to explain how I feel. "It _is_ an amazing offer," I repeat in a stronger voice, "but I don't know if it's the right decision."

"Have you talked to your advisor?" I shake my head no.

"Have you talked to your parents?" Another shake - that would be no.

"Have you talked to Daniel?" My head falls into my open hands as my hair swishes back and forth. No.

"Kira, you need to talk to him," Stefan says sympathetically, as he rubs my back. "This whole 'making the biggest decision of your life' stuff shouldn't be made without talking to the people most important to you."

"I'm talking to you," I reply with a sniffle. I really couldn't ask for a better friend than Stefan.

"I'm your friend, Kira," Stefan explains, taking a hold of my hands. "I will **always** be your friend. But you need to talk about this with someone who can really provide you with some additional information."

"You think Daniel knows someone who works for the CIA ?" I ask.

"I think Daniel knows people," Stefan replies with conviction. "Talk to him, Kree."

* * *

It isn't as if I'm avoiding Daniel - he's just been out of town a lot these past few weeks. This means, I wasn't able to tell him about the interview. I really didn't worry about it that much, because what were the odds I'd actually _be offered a job? _

Apparently, a lot better than I thought.

I received the offer packet just eight days after my interview. I now have six weeks (or rather four weeks and two days) to tell them yes or no. The offer letter explained how I had forty-eight hours from receipt of the packet (I signed for it) to tell them a definitive "no". After that, I would still have six weeks in which to examine the information provided and tell them a definitive yes or no; however, they would start contacting my references immediately.

Daniel.

In a euphoric panic, I left him two voice messages at work and sent him three emails, but to date, still haven't heard from him. Is he angry with me? Upset that I applied to work for a government agency? I know this can't be it as _he _works for a government agency. Despite what Stefan may think, if I accept this offer, I'm not going into the 'ops' side of the house, and should be relatively safe. Well, as safe as anyone can be these days.

I'm so absorbed in my thoughts, I nearly miss the tell-tale buzzing of my phone. I hardly ever have the darn thing with me, but my parents are currently dealing with travel agencies and hotels, trying to figure out the best way to get to me in time for my graduate in late May. I had told them to call if they have any questions.

"Just fly into Denver," I advise without preamble.

"You really think I should?" a voice teases. Crap! That is _so_ not my dad .

"Hello?"

"Hi, Kira." Daniel!

"Daniel," I say his name almost reverently; he is the one person on this planet I really need to talk to right now. "It's really good to hear from you."

"Sorry I didn't call sooner," Daniel says in apology. He sounds tired. "I've been out of town."

"I figured as much," I reply. "Have fun?" Daniel hardly ever tells me about where he goes, but I still like to fish every now and then.

"No," Daniel replies succinctly.

"Sorry." Hard to console a guy when you don't really know what the situation is. I do try though.

"Listen, Kira," Daniel continues, sounding a bit rushed. "I really need to talk to you, but I'm afraid it isn't going to be anytime soon. I'm heading out of town again."

"I sure hope you at least get frequent flyer miles," I tease. Daniel gives a little snort.

"Not on this flight."

"Will you be back soon?" I ask, slightly panicked. I have less than five weeks to decide. I wonder if they've contacted him yet…

"It's going to be at least two weeks," Daniel says sounding glum. In the background, I can hear all sorts of sounds - clanking noises and the sound of people moving down halls. Wherever Daniel is, it's definitely hopping.

"Daniel, we're ready," a voice calls out, loud enough for me to overhear. I'm pretty certain it was Sam's.

"Tell Jack, I'll be there in a second," Daniel says. Judging from the muffled sound of his voice, he tried to cover the receiver.

"At least you'll have company," I say trying to cheer him up. He really doesn't sound like he's looking forward to this trip.

"Kira, I really need to go," Daniel says, sounding a little apprehensive. "But I need you to do something for me."

"Name it," I reply. I'm expecting him to ask me to feed his fish, or water his plants or something like that.

"Don't take the job." Silence. I'm too stunned by his vehemence to reply.

"I'm not saying you can't take the job _ever_," Daniel continues, rushing his words together. "Just wait until I come back before you make any decisions."

"I need to let them know in four weeks, Daniel," I say softly.

"I know you do Kira," Daniel replies, sounding apologetic. "And I'm not saying you shouldn't take it…" he pauses. "Well, actually I _am_ saying you shouldn't take it, but I really need to talk to you in person. Can you wait two weeks? Please?"

After all this time of trying to figure out what I was going to say to Daniel, trying to imagine what he might say to me - none of this is turning out like I thought.

"Two weeks?" I repeat.

"Two weeks," Daniel assures me.

Okay. I can give him two weeks.

* * *

**Author's notes: ** I know you wanted/expected more, but this is a very good stopping place before the next scene (trust me). I just have too much material to lump it all into one fic, and the next story will "feel" quite different. There is a very good chance, I'll write the next one within the next few days, and THAT should appease you for at least a week or two. Besides, isn't anticipation half the fun? ducks Hey! Just remember, that the longer it takes me to write up these stories, the longer it takes all of us to reach Meridian . Gulp. Time is slowing down to a crawl right now, as I attempt to describe everything I possibly can before the Big M. dcc 

Notes Addendum: Because a few have asked, here are the episdoes mentioned in this story: 515 - Summit and 516 - Last Stand (Daniel poses as Yu's slave during a secret Goa'uld meeting) and 517 - Fail Safe (the asteroid heading to Earth - SG-1 takes nearly two weeks to fix a ship and then fly back to the Milky Way)

One last thing - I wanted to thank all the folks who've checked out this series in the last few months - i'm continually amazed by all the  
support all the readers on ff have given me and just wanted to say thanks. Apologies if I've forgotten anyone! Alaua-star, Amber,  
BkwrmDancer, CAnn Harris, betty colvin, Completed Irony, Daniel Marshell, deathstreet89, Destiny Skywalker, Drucilla, ladyholder,  
LcNessie, Loethaelis, Lumpster, Lynnmichelle, Marieke, MarbleGlove, melpomene-muse of tragedy, Marieke, MsCracker7,Nemesis Enforcer, offbeat musician, Orka, PentagonMerlin, running out of ink, PKgirl, Scribe, scjon, summercloud, Tempest in Blue,Terreis, ty-rant84, Verb, Yakuko **and **Shannon K and Neuropsych (because she asked!)

Completed August 25


	48. Dinner at Daniel's

**Title:** Barista 48 -- Dinner at Daniel's   
**Season:** 5   
**Spoilers:** Maybe   
**Category**: Either Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Humor or Romance   
**Rating:** Somewhere between G and R. Why am I being so enigmatic? See Barista 44 notes.

* * *

Two weeks is an exceedingly long time when you are facing a decision that will affect you for the rest of your life. And yes, deciding whether or not I should work for the CIA most certain **does** fall into that category. However, there really are both pros and cons to consider: 

Pro: I will be working with some of the brightest people in the entire United States .

Con: I am obligated to work the first few years in Virginia .

Pro: There is a very good chance that after those years, I can relocate abroad.

Con: I won't have much say on where they will send me.

Pro: I will be **PAID **to study languages and cultures.

Con: The languages studied will (probably) be Arabic and her assorted dialects.

Pro: I'll be making more money than I **ever** thought I would. I'll be able to pay off my student loans in less than five years. Maybe even less than three!

Con: If I accept the position, I have to attend " CIA Camp"; an orientation period that lasts nine months - it's pretty much akin to returning to school.

Pro: Living on the East coast has definite advantages to land-locked Colorado . I'll be closer to New York , Washington DC and Europe .

Con: My friends live **here**! Odds are if I take this job, I will probably lose contact with most of them.

I'm going nowhere with all of this and really wish Daniel would just hurry up and return from wherever the heck he went this time.

"Hey Stefan," I call out from my perch near the register. It's a slow today, so all of us are pretty much doing the Gen X slacker thing - just hanging around and half-heartedly doing our jobs. I look around the shop and frown. Besides Stefan and me, all the other Baristas are under 21; they're technically a completely different Generation.

I'm feeling old.

"You called oh frocked-one?" I throw a bar rag in his direction. Stefan was with me when I went to pick up my graduation robe and finds our bloated gowns, frilly sashes and cardboard caps ever so amusing.

Damn. I forgot what I was going to ask him. Ah well, I'm nothing if not adaptable. "What year do kids stop being X'ers and become Y'ers?"

"1980," he answers instantly.

"I heard it was '77," Kathy yells from the back room. See? Everyone is a little bored today.

"Really?" I ask.

"Oh yeah," Kathy confirms, walking into the main store. "My older brother is adamant on that one. Anyone born _after_ Star Wars has to be a Gen Y'er. He's positive the world changed _completely_ after the 1977 release of Star Wars and anyone who wasn't around to witness it, _has to_ be from a different generation." I burst out laughing.

"Kath, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't he only a few years older than you?" Kathy nods - she sees where I'm going with this. "Which means he couldn't have been older than two or three when it was released," I say aloud.

"Hey, I never said Neil was _right_ or anything."

Stefan chimes in from the espresso machine. "No, I'm fairly certain it's 1980," he insists, sounding as if he knows of which he speaks. "In '80, Regan was elected president of the U.S. and his crafty counterpart, Margaret Thatcher was Prime Minister in the U.K. "

"But she became Prime Minister in '79," Rachel corrects. Wow. I'm impressed with my workmates - we so kick ass in the history department!

"Close enough," Stefan says dismissively, waving a hand in the air. "The world shifted in 1980, and that's when 'X' gave way to 'Y'." Before someone could make the inevitable jump from Y to Z, my phone (thankfully) rang. Instantly, I'm on edge and I'm fairly certain my heart rate just doubled. This time I know it isn't dad . Stefan slyly walks over to where I am standing and shoos me back towards the break room.

Have I mentioned how much I love my friends?

"Hello?"

"Hi Kira," Daniel greets warmly. "How have you been?"

"Good," I reply nervously. "Nice trip?" Ah. We're back to Monosyllabic Meyers again. Great. Daniel chuckles.

"Actually, it was," Daniel says in a voice that I can tell is smiling. "Maybe some day I will tell you about it," he adds cryptically. Well, that would be a first!

"So Kira," Daniel continues, "what are you doing for dinner tonight?" You know, of all the things I thought Daniel might say to me, dinner really wasn't on the list.

"Nothing?" I'm so confused here. I might have served Daniel coffee a million and one times, and even had a few drinks _near _him on occasion, but we've never actually had dinner together. Sharing an order of French fries over a Greek translation does not qualify as dinner.

Daniel seems to pause for a second before continuing. "I'm going to be finishing up here in the next hour or so, I'd be happy to come pick you up."

Daniel Jackson has asked me to dinner.  
Daniel Jackson is picking me up for dinner.  
Daniel Jackson is hot.

I try to scratch that last thought, but it isn't exactly working. It's been two years since I've gotten over my Daniel crush, but right now, I'm kinda forgetting why. Might have something to do with being single again, or maybe it's just the fact that Daniel _is_ hot.

"Ok." Realizing I need to give him a little more here, I continue. "I'm going to be getting off work in a half hour or so," I add. "I need 20 minutes to walk home, ten to shower, another…" my voice trails off as I realize Daniel does _not _need to know how long it takes me to shower and dry my hair! "I can be ready by 5:30 ," I thankfully summarize before embarrassing myself any further. Ninety minutes is more than enough time.

"Perfect!" Daniel replies, sounding rather eager. _Down Kira!_ "Do you still live in that apartment complex I dropped you off at a couple years ago?" Whoa. Daniel remembers that? We're talking freakishly good memory here.

"Yeah," I reply. I'm starting to get that surreal 'this can't be happening' feeling again.

"Great! Pick you up in front of your apartment at 5:30 ?"

"5:30 ," I repeat. "I'll be ready."

"See you then, Kira." Daniel pauses and I can almost make out the voice of someone in the background. "Damn," Daniel mutters. "You're right." I don't think that part was for me. "Kira, how do you feel about Thai food?" Daniel asks rather sheepishly. I laugh and feel a little of the weirdness of the whole situation fade.

"I love Thai," I answer truthfully. Phad Thai is my favorite dish ever!

"Good," Daniel says with relief. "I've just been _reminded_ that I haven't had a chance to go shopping yet." I smile. Gee, and I wonder who reminded him?

"We can meet at a restaurant if you want," I offer. I'm about to add that he can invite Jack along as well, when Daniel quickly objects.

"No!" he replies abruptly. Well, okay then. No restaurant. "I want to show you a couple books," Daniel explains. "And I have some rather interesting artifacts I think you would enjoy seeing."

"Um, okay." Just what does a gal say when she is offered to be shown artifacts?

"See you at 5:30 ," Daniel repeats again. I can tell he's just as embarrassed at his outburst as I am. I nod, but before I can say anything more (not that there was a whole heck of a lot more to say), the phone goes dead. I stare at it for several moments before raising my head and meeting Stefan's eyes.

"Showtime," Stefan says softly.

* * *

"I want to show you a couple BOOKS?" Jack repeats shaking his head in disbelief. "I have some ARTIFACTS you would enjoy seeing?" He rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. "Daniel, do you have _any _idea how that sounded?" 

"Don't you have reports or something to write?" Daniel asks irritably, as he exits his office. He knew it had been a bad idea to make the phone call with Jack in the room. Well technically, Jack _hadn't _been in the room when he began the call. The joy of his presence had come later.

"Daniel, we've been through this," Jack begins, following his friend down the corridor. "It was either the SGC or a secure location, and because of your penchant for _inadvertently_ bringing home translations, your apartment is nearly as secure as Carter's."

"Sam takes work home as well?" Daniel asks with interest. He thought he was the only one who got (regularly) busted for that.

"It's a post-Orlin thing," Jack replies awkwardly. Daniel gives him a look and hopes to hell Sam knows about this.

"You also agreed," Daniel states, trying his best to convince Jack to stop following him, "that I get to do this alone."

"Yes," Jack says amiably. "Your team, your disclosure." Daniel stops in his tracks and turns to face Jack. He holds up a finger and opens his mouth to speak, but decides against it.

"I'll let you know how it goes Jack," Daniel promises. He turns back around and gives Jack a slight behind the back wave. It was time to change and do a little dinner shopping.

* * *

Wow. I'm really not sure if this could be more awkward. 

Daniel picks me up at 5:30 on the nose and everything feels so strained. Is Daniel _that _upset at me for applying to the CIA? It doesn't _feel_ like he's mad at me, but something is different; Daniel is different. Something is going on, and I don't have a damned idea what it is! All of this is very frustrating. We talk about the weather and stupid local stuff as he drives back towards the city. I live in one of the many student housing projects scattered around the university; Daniel however, lives in a swanky high-end condo downtown. Guess his job doesn't pay too poorly either. We take the elevator up to the eighth floor and my mouth drops a little as Daniel opens the door and ushers me in.

This apartment _rocks_. Forget the analogy of a kid in a candy store - try being an ancient history and language buff in Dr. Daniel Jackson's apartment. I've died and gone to bibliophilic heaven!

Daniel chuckles and leaves me to wander through his stacks of books and papers and strange-looking artifacts from countries whose languages I can't even read! I mean don't get me wrong, it isn't like I can recognize every language in the world or anything, but I am about to get my Masters in Linguistics and there are artifacts here written in scripts I can't decipher at all! I yearn to take some of these books home to study.

"They're just books, Kira," Daniel says smiling, as he brings the food into the dining room. "But don't tell Jack that I said that, okay?"

"Daniel, I wouldn't be surprised if many of these books are museum quality!" I say, pointing towards one particularly gorgeous manuscript. I have only taken a few courses in archival sciences, but from what little I know, this one appears to be mid 15th century with a pigskin binding (rare!). I yearned to open it up to see if the signatures pages are folded _in quarto_ or _in octavo_.

"Come eat before it gets cold," Daniel advises after letting me linger for a few minutes more. My fingers are crossed that I'll be allowed to examine some of his artifacts more closely after dinner. I close my eyes and internally groan; I _so _didn't mean it that way. We make idle chitchat over spicy peanut noodles, garlic stir-fry and a damn fine bottle of wine. Apparently, there **is **a difference between a $4 bottle of wine and a $20 bottle.

"I'm fairly certain you're over 21 now," Daniel jokes, eyes twinkling, as he pours me a second glass. So much for hoping he had forgotten about that.

"Oh, and you never lied about your age before?" I counter, accepting (gratefully) the offered wine. I feel like such an adult sharing a glass of wine with Daniel!

"Oh, all the time!" Daniel replies, artfully using his chopsticks on the slippery noodles. Unlike most westerners (and this includes me) Daniel doesn't try to 'skewer' the hard to pick up bits. He skillfully collects just the right amount of broccoli, garlic and rice all in one manageable bite. "But usually it was to save myself from getting my ass kicked by older kids."

"Your _ass_ kicked?" I repeat. It just sounds funny coming from him.

"I have really been hanging around Jack too long," Daniel mumbles, taking a large drink of his wine. "The good news is that although I was fairly small for my age when I was younger, I had a good-size growth spurt at 16, so I didn't stand out too much when I started college."

"You started college at 16?" For some strange reason, hearing Daniel talk about college is giving me goosebumps; I feel like I already know this. Has he told this to me before?

Daniel nods as he continues with his reminiscing. "College at 16, and then I started graduate school just shy of my 19th birthday." He shrugs self-consciously. "I've never really been much of a socialite, but I did try and "fit in" every now and then - sometimes that meant lying about my age." He smiles and points his chop sticks at me. "Not really the same thing however as lying to get a beer, Kira."

"It was a White Russian," I mumble examining the pretty wine glass. French? "So Daniel," I begin trying to change the subject. "Not that I don't appreciate the invitation to your home, and I really want to spend more time examining your books, but I am a little curious as to why I'm here."

"Why do you think?" Daniel asks, turning the question back to me. Arrggh! Being a multi-lingual archaeologist isn't enough? He now has to play psychologist?

"You heard that I applied to work at the CIA." When in doubt, state the obvious.

"Yeah, about that, Kira…" Daniel begins. "A little prior notice would have been appreciated." He doesn't sound angry so much as a little disappointed. The Thai food sits uncomfortably in my stomach and I feel horrible. I really did mean to tell him...

"I'm so sorry about that Daniel," I reply sincerely, unconsciously going into babble mode. "You were the one who told me to think outside the box, and so I did. And even though I didn't _really_ think I'd even get past the first door - I **did**, and then they contacted ME, and the next thing I know I'm **interviewing **with them and then..." I pause just long enough to take another breath. "And then..."

"Kira, it's all right," Daniel says kindly, laying a hand on my arm. "It just caught me by surprise."

"Sorry," I repeat lamely. I take another sip of wine.

"Let's move into the living room," Daniel advises. The prickly goosebumps are back. Aren't living rooms where people are given really bad news?

"I'll be right back, Kira." I nervously take another sip of wine and make a mental note to switch to water very soon. Daniel returns with an unmarked manila file folder and a really cool-looking pendant. He sets both of them on the coffee table and tops off our wine glasses before I can request water. I can tell that whatever Daniel wants to tell me is important. Really important. I haven't a clue what he is going to say, and frankly it's freaking me out a little. I'm sure my wine consumption isn't helping matters.

"Daniel, you're freaking me out here," I say finally. Enough with the cloak and dagger stuff Daniel - tell me what's going on!

"I know. I'm sorry Kira, really, it's just..."

"You're not dying or anything, are you?" The wine. This has to be the wine talking. Still, as long as I've asked, it can't hurt to know the answer.

"God, no!" Daniel replies vehemently. "What makes you think that?" I shrug.

"You're awfully serious. Mysterious folder, pretty necklace that you might be giving away as a gift.."

"No dying," Daniel insists. "In fact, just the opposite..."

"You're having a baby?" I ask, interested. I didn't know Daniel was seeing anyone! Daniel laughs.

"No. No baby."

"Daniel, birth is the opposite of death..." I explain patiently. Daniel rolls his eyes in exasperation.

"Kira, has anyone ever remarked that you can be annoying sometimes?" He says this in a very humorous voice, so I know the 'annoying' bit can't be too bad.

"Occasionally," I reply smiling.

"You and Jack are really quite alike," Daniel says shaking his head.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Deja Vu! I'm positive he's said this to me before. I think Daniel realizes this as well, but before either of us can reply, the phone in his kitchen rings.

"Ignore it, I can always call whomever back later." The phone stops at three rings and I can only assume the person is leaving a message. Moments later Daniel's shirt pocket begins to vibrate. Daniel groans and I can't help but break out into a large grin. "Three guesses," he mutters.

Without even looking at his caller ID, Daniel flips the phone open. "Hi, Jack." I cover my mouth to hold back a giggle as the person on the other end (Jack) says something.

"Lucky guess," Daniel replies. "And I'll bet it was _you, _who called my home just a few seconds earlier." He pauses to listen to Jack's response.

"Because, Jack," Daniel begins patiently. "I have company." Pause. "Yes, it's Kira." Pause, and a glance in my direction. "No," Daniel replies succinctly. "Not yet." Pause. "Maybe because some _Colonel_ I know keeps calling me?" Pause and a shake of his head. "You don't need to do that, Jack." Pause. "If I ask you nicely, will you _not_ do that?" Pause, and a pained look. "Fine." Pause. "Right." Pause. "See you." Daniel pushes the off button and stares at his phone, shaking his head slightly back and forth. He sighs and gives me a resigned look.

"Jack is on his way."

* * *

**Author's notes: **I _swear_ I had every intention of writing this scene as one story - but it's just too darn long to do so! And once again, this is just the perfect leaving-off point before Jack arrives and really makes things interesting. I don't mean to be evil or tortuous. Really! Am I not posting semi-regularly right now? Do I make you wait long? Am I not just an all around swell gal? Exactly! So enjoy the suspense, let me know if this is going down how you envisioned/wanted and I'll try and post the concluding part (I even have a title - 'Veritas'), next week. Hey, look on the bright side: Daniel is safe and secure in his apartment right now. On Earth. 

Not Kelowna.

And now that I've _really _bummed you out, I need to warn you that after this next chapter (which will **not **be a cliff hanger btw - well, nothing like the last two any how -smile-), my postings are going to decrease. Precipitously. _I'm _in my final quarter of graduate school and need to seriously work on my portfolio (in lieu of a thesis). It's only for the next two months or so, after that I am sitting pretty. No panicking! I'm not saying I won't post for two months...I'm just saying I'm not going to be able to post as frequently. Thank you for your patience and understanding! readers are the BEST. (Special thanks to Nightshae for clueing me in to the formatting ickiness and Shetlandlace for the spelling assistance!)

Completed Sept. 2, 2005


	49. Veritas

**Title:** Barista 49 -- Veritas   
**Season:** 5   
**Spoilers:** Could be   
**Category**: I'm sure it's categorical   
**Rating:** Somewhere between G and R.

** Author's Notes: ** I will tell you this much – don't try to read this while ingesting food or drink. And you might not want to be in a public place. If you are, bring something for muffling purposes. Trust me on this.

For Kelly whose baby is due any day now (I made it, hon!) and Tes who shares not only my same birthday day, but the same _year_ as well (scary!) Happy B-day! And thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who continues to read these.

* * *

**_Previously, on The Barista... _**

_"See you." Daniel pushes the off button and stares at his phone; shaking his head slightly back and forth. He sighs and gives me a resigned look. _

_"Jack is on his way." _

"Jack is on his way?" Is it just me, or does this seem odd?

"Yes," Daniel confirms, sighing again. "Your team, your disclosure," he mumbles just loud enough for me to hear. _Huh? _He ponders the situation for a moment and then glances at his watch and smiles. "Well, unless Jack has actually camped out at the coffee shop across the street," Daniel says optimistically, "I think we have some time." _Um...time for what? _

If I wasn't nervous before, I certainly am now. I abruptly put down my wine glass and head into Daniel's kitchen. I open a cupboard at random and surprise myself by finding what I am looking for on the first try.

"Kira, you need any help in there?" Daniel calls from the living room. I can hear him shuffling papers. Those papers are really starting to make me nervous.

"Just getting some water!" I yell back. I pull down a water glass and automatically open the refrigerator, forgetting for a moment that I'm not at home. _I_ might keep filtered water in my fridge, but this doesn't mean Daniel will. Still, seeing as the fridge is open and all that, I'm curious as to what Daniel likes to eat. I peer inside.

Apparently, not much.

I balk a little as I spy a forlorn box of Arm & Hammer baking soda on the top shelf and assorted condiments interspersed with a few bottles of beer in the side baskets. Wow. Daniel wasn't kidding when he said he hadn't gone shopping. But then again, there's "shopping" and then there is "completely stocking my near empty refrigerator". Well, he had been gone for a few weeks, I reason. Trying not to think about it too much, I head to the sink and fill my glass with tap water. One of the perks of living in the Rockies; great tasting tap water.

"You really need to do some shopping, Daniel," I say, returning to the living room.

"Tomorrow," Daniel replies absently, not sounding even remotely concerned. "Kira, come sit over here," Daniel asks, patting the seat cushion next to him and picking up a manila folder. "I want to ask you something." I sit down expectantly, and take a small sip of the cool water. I don't think Daniel has any idea how confused all of this is making me. I know my face must show my mounting bewilderment as Daniel abruptly puts down that mysterious stack of papers.

"I'm really messing this up, aren't I?" I would agree with him, but seeing how I don't have a _clue_ what he is talking about, I can only shrug noncommittally.

"Kira, I don't want you to work for the CIA," Daniel says with conviction.

"You kinda hinted at that before," I reply tentatively. "What do you have against the CIA?" Daniel shakes his head.

"It isn't that I have anything _specifically _against them Kira, it's just I can't really see you working for them."

"And why is that?" I reply defensively. I might not be as smart as Daniel, but I can hold my own. Does he really think I'll fail? Or is it that...

"Kira, whatever you are thinking right now, just stop," Daniel says, interrupting me. Sheepishly, I do just that.

"Why don't you want me to work for the CIA, Daniel?" I ask, as my palms begin to sweat. The air is filled with so much tension; I wouldn't be surprised if tendrils of electricity sprout up between us!

"Kira, ask me again what I do for a living," Daniel says abruptly. _Huh?_ If Daniel were like a baseball game, I think this would be called, 'a change up'.

"Excuse me?"

"Ask me what I do for a living," Daniel repeats. "No wait," Daniel says interrupting himself, as he stands up excitedly. "Kira, do you remember one day several years ago, when I found you sleeping in a library?" He is positively bursting to tell me something, but for the life of me, I don't have a clue what!

"I was working late, and you had a key..." I begin.

"Yes, yes," Daniel says, urging me to continue with little hand movements.

"We chatted for a bit at the library; went out to eat; and then you drove me home," I conclude.

"You forgot the middle part!" Daniel huffs in exasperation. I feel like an actor who just forgot her line - in a script that isn't even written yet! I know I'm looking more than a little frustrated now. Daniel, would you just TELL ME what the hell is going on!

"Okay," Daniel says talking quickly. "You don't remember all the details, that's perfectly understandable." _Gee, thank you for saying so._ "You were doing some research on Babylon and I picked up your book and said something to you..." He waves his hand expectantly, hoping I can fill in the details. I stare at him blankly. "**I** said," Daniel begins, "how one day you and I are going to have a nice long conversation..."

"We've had lots of nice long conversations, Daniel," I reply, still bewildered.

"I _said_," Daniel repeats, still waving his hands as he begins to talk faster and faster. "That one day you and I were going to have a nice long conversation, even if I have to ask the President for permission." Ah! In a complete Road Runner cartoon moment, a light bulb appears above my head. I give Daniel a big smile. I might not remember the specifics, but **that line** I totally remember.

"Right!" I reply, laughing as I shake my head in disbelief – that was _ages_ ago! "Forgive me for being a little slow, Daniel, but that was a long time ago."

"Perfectly understandable!" Daniel replies magnanimously.

"So has the President given you permission to have a nice long conversation with me?" I ask jokingly.

"Yes," Daniel replies with finality, splaying his hands happily outwards in a universal 'eureka' way.

I blink.

"The President of the United States has given you permission to talk to me." If I wasn't sitting down already, I'm pretty sure I'd need to be about now.

"A sub-committee of the Joint Chiefs actually, but that's pretty close," Daniel replies offhandedly. He's obviously thrilled to be able to talk to me about this, and sits down next to me. Once again I do my gaping fish impression.

"Someone in our government has given you permission to talk with me," I repeat.

"Yes," Daniel says nodding.

"About what?" I ask.

"Ah, and that's the hundred thousand dollar question!" Daniel replies happily. I am now even _more_ confused, but seeing Daniel sitting next to me, smiling as if he is about to fill me in on the biggest secret in the world – well, whatever it is, it can't be all that bad if it has Daniel so excited.

"Can you just tell me the answer first?" I ask hopefully.

"You just say yes, Kira," Daniel replies seriously. "Yes, there are some papers to sign, and yes, there are a thousand questions you will want answers to, but all I need for you to do at this very moment is to tell me yes."

Oh   
My   
God.

Daniel Jackson is asking me to marry him.

Before I can even think of how to respond to all of this, we hear pounding on Daniel's front door. Loud pounding. "Great timing, Jack," Daniel grumbles, giving my icy hands a little squeeze as he stands up to answer the door. I'm left sitting on the couch, my brain racing a million miles a minute.

This makes _no _sense at all.

* * *

"Hi kids," Jack says jovially as Daniel opens the door. "Having fun?" 

"As always Jack, you do seem to have impeccable timing." I'm certain Daniel must have flashed Jack one of those, 'I'm really annoyed with you' looks, but I'm too busy doing my guppy impression to pay it any attention.

"Be nice, Daniel," Jack admonishes. "I come baring gifts." My mind is still on other things, so I don't see the freezer bag he waves in front of Daniel's face.

"Hi Kira," Jack greets, completely oblivious to my sheer and utter bewilderment. He walks right pass me and into Daniel's kitchen. He quickly sticks the ice cream in the freezer and then opens the fridge and helps himself to a beer. I hear the clink-hiss as the bottle loses its cap.

"Go ahead and help yourself to a beer, Jack," Daniel remarks drolly.

"That's why I put 'em there, Danny," Jack replies, as he takes a drink. "Damn, that's good," he says reverently as he walks back into the living room and plops down next to me, taking another long swallow.

"You haven't had a beer yet?" Daniel sounds quite surprised by this.

"Came straight from the mountain," Jack answers. "No drinking and driving for this flyboy," Jack says proudly. He turns his attention back to me, "So Kira, how goes it? Daniel tell you anything interesting yet?" This time I catch the daggers that Daniel shoots his way. I count to three.

"You mean besides asking me to marry him?" It's a good thing Jack had just swallowed his beer; otherwise I'm certain I would have been showered with the stuff.

"WHAT!" he sputters looking back and forth between Daniel and me.

"I did WHAT!"

"You asked me to marry you," I reply, wrinkling my forehead in consternation. _Didn't he? _

"Daniel," Jack growls, looking every inch like a dad who wants to eviscerate a potential suitor.

"Jack, Kira just misunderstood me," Daniel explains, talking rapidly. "Kira," he says, turning towards me, "I don't want to marry you." My eyes fill with tears.

"You don't want to marry me," I repeat softly.

"Great, Daniel," Jack says handing me a handkerchief. "You made Kira cry." He puts his arm around me. "Whatever Daniel said Kira, he didn't mean it," Jacks says trying to comfort me.

"It's the wine," I insist, dabbing my eyes with Jack's handkerchief. "I just misunderstood." I'm in babble mode before I even know what's happening. "Daniel wanted to tell me something, and then he started with one thing, but then changed to something else, until I finally told him to cut to the chase and just tell me the bottom line, and that's when he told me I should just say yes, and then..."

"Kira, will you come work for me?" Daniel blurts out, interrupting me before I can ramble further. It takes several moments before his words sink in.

"What?" I ask turning to look at him. I'm certain I must look like one of those inane kewpie dolls, all wide eyed and hopeful.

"I want you to work for me." He says this seriously, but his lips are curled ever so slightly in a smile and his eyes are bright blue with emotion. "That is if you want too."

"You want me to work for you," I repeat, trying to keep my voice from cracking. Oh My God – this is like a dream come true!

"Yes," Daniel says with a nod. "I didn't want you to accept the job at the CIA , because I want you to work for me."

"Doing what?" I ask.

"What you've been trained to do, Kira," Daniel explains. "A lot of linguistic research, some cataloging of new languages and perhaps a few translation projects."

"What languages?"

"Whatever languages we find," Daniel replies, shrugging.

"Daniel, that doesn't make sense!" I say stubbornly. I might be thrilled nearly beyond words at what Daniel is offering me, but I still need at least a _few _details.

"I know you have questions, Kira," Daniel explains, but first I need you to do something for me."

"What's that?"

"We need you to sign a few papers."

* * *

I wrinkle my nose. "Why do I need to sign those?" I ask, eyeing the thick manila folder on the side of the table. I can understand one or two pages – maybe even a dozen or so, but that file over there is _thick! _Just when I thought I had everything figured out, Daniel has to go and throw me a curve ball again. 

I really hate baseball.

"And unfortunately, we kind of need you to sign them before I can tell you any specific details about what it is you'll be doing." Daniel shrugs apologetically, as he (finally) hands over the thick packet of papers in the heavyweight manila folder. I open the folder up and am greeted with huge red letters stamped across the top of the page:

CONFIDENTIAL

Silently I skim the first few pages, before looking back up at Jack and Daniel, completely and utterly confused. Confidential? And once signed, and my background checked out, I'll be cleared for SECRET and potentially TOP SECRET information? What kind of translating gig is this!

"Don't worry, you've been cleared for most of it already," Daniel says as I flip through the many, many pages of questions.

"No she hasn't, Daniel," Jack replies in a sing-song voice.

"But I thought you had said..." Daniel begins; Jack just shrugs.

"Oh, I'm certain Kira will pass with flying colors, but all I did was the most cursory of background checks on her – the kind of thing anyone with half a brain could do via the Internet." He gives Daniel one of those enigmatic Colonel looks I can never figure out. "I know you think the military, and the CIA for that matter is shifty, but we really do try and do things by the book whenever possible." He gives me an apologetic look. "We'll probably grant you probationary clearance in less than a month, but you won't be allowed to see any classified files until you've been cleared through all channels." Jack gives me a very pointed look. "Although you just happen to know the 2IC of the base, so I'm going to make sure you see the Big Stuff on the first day."

My head is starting to hurt. 2IC? Big Stuff? "I'm confused, guys," I say after Jack had finished confusing the heck out of me with all the security check stuff. "Jack's Air Force, right?" Jack nods. "Daniel, are you Air Force, too?"

"No," Daniel says quickly. "I'm civilian. I just **work** for the Air Force. You would be doing the same thing."

"What does the Air Force have to do with archaeology and linguistics?"

"May I, Daniel?" Jack asks solicitously. He actually doesn't sound like he's mocking Daniel at all. "I said it was your gig, and it is, but if you'd like some help on this..."

"Go right ahead," Daniel says sitting down and pouring himself a glass of wine. "I'm curious too, Jack," Daniel says with a little smile. "Just what _does_ the Air Force have to do with archaeology and linguistics?" Jack gives him another one of those "looks" and begins.

"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..."

"Jack!" Daniel admonishes.

"That was entirely Teal'c's doing," Jack mumbles, looking abashed.

"Teal'c?" I ask.

"You know him as Murray ," Jack explains.

" Murray is Teal'c?" What kind of name is Teal'c?

"Believe me Kira, after you visit the mountain, the fact that one guy has two names will be _the least_ of your concerns."

"Way to make her feel better, Jack!"

"I'm just saying..."

"What happened in a galaxy far, far away, Jack?" I ask curiously. I actually put my water down and take another sip of wine. Stories are best told with either milk and cookies or barring the good stuff, alcoholic beverages.

"Well you see there was this _guy_," Jack begins, "who didn't quite see eye to eye with the rest of the world."

"Although he _was_ right," Daniel adds, sounding ever so smug.

"But this didn't help him from standing up before a group of his peers and saying a whole lot of stuff they didn't want to hear," Jack continues. In the back of my mind, I feel a huge oak door slowly opening – this sounded eerily familiar.

"So the guy says a bunch of stuff that no one believes and the next thing you know he's disappeared off the face of the earth and..."

**Click. **

Jack's voice fades as a rush of memories come roaring back to me. I still see Jack's mouth moving, but no sound reaches my ears. With a calmness I certainly don't feel, I set my wine glass down and stand up.

"Excuse me a moment," I say politely. Without hearing Jack or Daniel reply, I walk over to where I left my purse by the front door. I pick it up and walk to the dining room table before unceremoniously dumping the contents out. Wordlessly I pull out a very well worn piece of paper. I stare at it for several long moments. It really does not look like a poorly drawn stick figure any longer.

"Kira, are you all right?" Daniel calls out. I'm thankful my ears seem to be working again. I'm still facing away from them, and it is all I can do to shake my head slowly back and forth. No, Daniel. I am not. I hear both of them stand up and walk over to me.

"Kira?" Jack asks, laying a hand against my back. Absently I realize I've started to shake. Wordlessly, I hand Daniel my drawing.

"It isn't a stick figure," I explain inanely. "All this time, I thought it was a really bad drawing, but for the life of me I just couldn't throw it away."

"Daniel?" Jack asks. He hasn't seen the picture yet.

"Kira, you need to sit down," Daniel says softly, as he passes Jack the picture. He gently takes my arm and leads me over to the couch.

"This might be a problem," Jack says absently, holding the drawing up to the light.

"Kira, where did you get this?"

"Jack, would you let the girl catch her breath!" Daniel sounds angry. Although come to think of it, I'm really not doing very well, am I? Daniel hands me the glass of water. I take a sip as Jack picks up his own beer.

I look solemnly at the two men before mustering up enough courage to finally ask the question that has been haunting me (albeit only in my dreams) for the past year,

"Daniel, are you really an alien archaeologist with Jack and Sam as your body guards?" This time Jack can't help the beer that comes spraying out of his mouth. He begins to laugh. Loudly.

"It **definitely** feels like it sometimes, Kira!" Jack finally replies after several seconds of chuckling to himself. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand before turning to face me. "Now _where_ did you possibly get that idea?" Okay, I'm confused again. For a second there, I thought I was right; that everything I discovered during my drunken Internet search was right and Daniel really did discover that aliens invented the pyramids. But Jack's reaction... Oh God, am I making a complete fool out of myself!

"It's a long story," I mumble, feeling very, very embarrassed. Can I screw this up any more than I already have? Absently, I urge myself to take the thought back; of course it can get worse!

"We have the day off tomorrow," Jack says amiably. "Share." In halting words, I fill Jack and Daniel in on my bad date (without the gruesome details). I explain how in a drunken haze I had started doing research on Daniel.

"Why Daniel?" Jack asks with interest. I try not to roll my eyes. Why does everyone always assume I have the hots for Daniel! I mean, he's my _friend_ for crying out loud!

"I was drunk," I mumble. "Who can say why drunk girls do the things they do?" I really would have pulled that off better if I could have kept from blushing. Jack just grins and gives Daniel a nudge.

"She was _drunk_."

"Jack, you aren't helping matters here." I can tell that Daniel is not particularly thrilled with how all of this is going. He looks frustrated with Jack's presence.

I proceed to explain how I scoured first the public search engines and then proprietary databases in search of information on Daniel. "I found a transcript of a talk you made before a group of archaeological scholars back in '95." It is not my imagination; Daniel winces.

"It's on the INTERNET, Daniel?" Jack asks incredulously.

"Dozens of people heard me make that speech, Jack," Daniel explains in exasperation. "If someone wanted to transcribe the damn thing, it wasn't like I was actually around to tell them to stop."

"So it's true," I say quietly. "Aliens did build the pyramids." Jack and Daniel do one of those 'whole-conversations-without-speaking' things.

"Kira, will you sign each and every one of these papers?" Jack asks seriously, holding up the thick packet.

"In order to work with Daniel?" I ask. Jack nods and smiles.

"Absolutely!"

"She did say she'd sign the papers."

"But what about..." Daniel lowers his voice. "Security?"

"Your place was swept the morning we returned," Jack replies matter-of-factly. Daniel does not look happy with this information.

"Gee, way to trust your co-worker, Jack."

"**I'm** not the one who tends to write down complete mission details in public diaries," Jack begins.

"The diaries aren't _meant_ to be public, Jack."

"Um, can we focus on alien pyramids, here?" I say, interrupting them before they get too carried away. Usually I love 'the Jack and Daniel show', but not tonight.

"Yes Kira, aliens did build the pyramids," Daniel explains.

"And Danny-boy here figured it out," Jack says proudly.

"But there's more to it than just that," Daniel interjects. "And you seriously need to see it to believe it."

"Not all the aliens are nice, are they?" I ask suddenly feeling very small.

"No," Jack answers succinctly. "Some are most assuredly _not_ nice."

"Were you really kidnapped by aliens and cryogenically frozen?" I ask Daniel. He nods.

"And yes, they did indeed give me my first haircut in over three years."

"Ah, you were looking way too pretty before that, Daniel."

"Thanks Jack."

"Your wife," I say suddenly making a connection. "Your wife is an alien!"

"My wife was human, Kira," Daniel says carefully. "There are hundreds, if not thousands of human colonies throughout the galaxy." Wait a minute. _Galaxy?_

"Do the laws of physics not exist in space?" I ask seriously. "Because, unless you guys know how to travel faster than light, than I don't see how..." my voice trails off as they both nod.

"We can travel faster than light, Kira," Jack explains. "It's actually pretty cool, and I bet you'll love it once you see it." _It? _Without warning, the enormity of everything they have told me begins to sink in. _Years. Jack and Daniel have been visiting aliens for years. And then apparently heading back to Earth for a cup of coffee. This is real. _

The room seems to tilt all funny as I feel my heart race and it becomes more and more difficult to catch my breath. I begin to shiver for no good reason.

"Kira?" Daniel asks worriedly. Damn. And here I thought I was taking all of this so well.

"You know in hindsight, we really shouldn't have been quite so glib," Jack says, as he gently lays a hand on my back. "Just concentrate on taking slow, deep breaths, Kira."

"Kira," Daniel repeats, taking a hold of my hands (I swear, they've become blocks of ice) and kneeling down next to me. If I weren't in the midst of some serious freaking out here, I'd make a joke about Daniel proposing to me. Again! I begin to giggle to myself hysterically. Twice in one night, Daniel has asked me to marry him! I laugh until I'm suddenly gasping for breath.

"Jack?" Daniel asks worriedly, as he watches me turn a lovely hue of blue. Okay, so maybe I'm imagining that, but I really am having some problems catching my breath.

"Panic attack," Jack replies succinctly. "Kira, you aren't going nuts here – everything Daniel and I have so inarticulately said is true." It takes a moment for his words to sink in. True. Everything they have told me is true. So if all of this is true, why am I panicking? "Don't sweat it, munchkin," he says fondly, rubbing my back in calming circles. "If I have a dollar for everyone who 'freaked out' a little when told that aliens are real, I'd be a rich man!" I laugh weakly, as I feel my heart rate decrease and my breathing become more controlled. It takes a few minutes, but I finally get myself pulled back together. Daniel gives me some more water, while Jack plods over to the kitchen to dish us up some ice cream.

"You ready to do this, Kira?" Daniel asks, holding out a beautiful dark blue Waterman pen. I accept the pen gratefully and open the folder to the first page.

"Daniel?" I ask sometime later. My hand is now cramped nearly beyond recognition, but I manage to initial the final page and sign my name with a sweeping flourish. Tired, but happy, I close the folder. _I'm going to work for Daniel! _

"Yes?" Daniel answers in a hushed voice. Beside him, Jack is quietly snoring, having long since given up on watching Daniel's National Geographic special. It was a calming distraction in the background and I'm thankful that even those who apparently talk to aliens on a weekly basis, still seem to like T.V. I look over at Daniel and smile.

"Do I get my own office?"

* * *

**Author's notes: ** So...! Was it everything you had hoped for? Was it worth the wait? Does it makes _sense_? Please let me know! This story was all about Kira, but I tried to add what I could with Daniel as well. He's going to go all glowy soon (not saying when) and I'm trying to establish that things are at least a little strained between he and Jack - Daniel isn't really acting like the Strong Sexy Daniel of Season 4 and Jack is just...Jack. Er..at least I'm trying to convey that. Please let me know what you thought. I think this has been one of the most anticipated Baristas to date (my fault for giving you all those damn cliffhangers).

Er...and speaking of _waits_...I have to unhappily tell you that there will be no new Baristas until after I hand in my final graduate project. Well, unless there is an Autumnal miracle and I manage to do all my course work, complete my portfolio, hold down a full time job and install new windows in the next month. I'm guessing this won't happen and wanted to prepare you for the inevitable **wait**. Still, you never know. A wicked plot bunny might hold me ransom and INSIST I write something. Just don't count on it, okay? I'm guestimating a mid-October posting ducks I did warn you that this might happen! Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Completed Sept 10, 2005


	50. Denouement

**Title:** Barista 50 -- Denouement

** Author's Notes: ** You already know the drill - I'm not going to tell you the rating, the summary or what (if any) episode this is about until _after_ Meridian. I could write something more and tease you a bit, but I'll save that to the end. g As always, apologies for the ahem seven week wait. Hope this one makes up for it!

* * *

When hot guys stare at me, I'm flattered. When creepy old guys stare at me, I tend to think 'Lolita' and run for the hills. When lesbians stare at me, I get embarrassed, and shamelessly flirt with the closest unmarried heterosexual man around, and when gay guys stare at me, I wonder if I'm wearing the wrong shoes with my skirt. You think with all that experience, I would know how to react to the incredulous stare I'm currently receiving from one of my best friends. 

You'd be wrong.

"You hate it, don't you?" I ask self-consciously, running a hand through my hair. Stefan's eyebrows crease in concentration as he purses his lips, tilting his head from side to side.

"It isn't so much as _hate_," he begins judiciously, taking a step closer as he blocks me from walking further into the shop. "It's more like shock and awe." He takes hold of my shoulders and turns me around in a complete circle, clucking his tongue the entire time. "You could have warned me first," he continues in a hurt voice. "I would have held your hand or something." I can't help but smile.

"Most 24 year old women don't need their hand held when they go in for a haircut," I counter taking a step forward. I frown slightly as Stefan moves with me - is he trying to prevent me from heading to work?

"They do if they haven't had their hair cut in ten years!" Stefan replies indignantly, still jostling me to remain where I am. I have to admit, he does have a point. I don't think anyone would have begrudged a little handholding after such a long period. I admit that **I'm** still a little surprised by the decision to hack off all my hair. The idea popped into my head shortly after the disastrous/fantastic night at Daniel's last month. I began to think about it more and more, and then yesterday took the plunge and went to one of those salons that _don't _charge a flat rate, and nervously asked them to cut my hair. All of it.

I kept the 16-inch ponytail as a keepsake. Am I weird or what?

"Is it really that bad?" I ask in a small voice, as I run a hand up the back of my neck and feel the shortened hairs. I can't even begin to describe how strange it feels to have my hair _end _just below my ears. For most of my adult life, it's been half way down my back. I feel like I've lost at least five pounds!

Come to think of it, I just might have.

"I think you look fantastic!" Gretchen says, as she pushes Stefan out of the way and gives me a big hug. "Although," she continues, elbowing me lightly in the ribs, "you might want to change before taking your last shift behind the bar." I feel myself blushing as I look down at my chic brown skirt, dark brown boots and cream silk blouse. Rather than risk wrinkling my "nice" clothes, I had thrown my work clothes into my bag and worn my good ones into work. I'm about to explain this to her when I suddenly notice we're not alone.

I mean, we're really _not_ alone.

Usually, there are only three of us at 8 AM on a Thursday. Apparently, today isn't like other Thursdays. My eyes grow wide as I take in the "Congratulations Kira" sign and what appears to be every person I have ever served and worked with in the past five years. Including Victor!

"Ah, leave the girl alone," Victor says, throwing an arm around my shoulders and ushering me further inside. "I think Ms. Kira looks very chic with her new haircut and fancy clothes - I for one like it!" I feel myself grinning. Ha! I dare anyone to try and contradict Victor. He leads me past a throng of highly caffeinated people. Everyone is patting me on the back and telling me congratulations. Wow. And here I thought a)Victor would be bummed that I was leaving and b) the rest of the crew wouldn't care one way or the other.

"Surprised?" Victor asks, in his slightly accented English. He looks more like someone who should be operating a beer hall than a coffee shop, but then again, he's the only coffee shop owner I've ever met so maybe they all look like this!

"Very!" I reply, as someone takes my messenger bag from me and hands me a soy chai. I look around at all the shiny happy people. "Victor, it is only 8 AM."

"We'd never have been able to surprise you if we tried to pull it off on your lunch break," Victor explains.

"That's because she never _takes _a lunch break!" Stefan adds. He reaches his hands under my hair and gives it (them?) a good shake.

"Stefan!" I cry, trying to pull away. I have to admit though, that felt nice. Hmmm - Apparently, short hair has its advantages!

"It's very silky," Stefan says judiciously. I roll my eyes. I'm really going to miss these guys.

"Show us the badge again, Kree," Louise asks. Happily, I reach into my (only) suit pocket and pull out a freshly minted civilian military ID badge for working at the Deep Space Telemetry facility at Cheyenne Mountain. I can't believe I really have one of these. A young Air Force enlisted guy brought it by my apartment last week. He looked to be about my age, and man, was he hot! I wonder if it's okay for me to date cute military guys…

I look down at the badge and a score of memories come rushing back.

* * *

"You promise you'll be there?" I ask Daniel nervously as I ring up his coffee. It seems rather odd that a single piece of paper would (apparently) get me all the way to the front door of one of the most highly classified secrets on the planet. 

"Absolutely," Daniel insists. "I made sure we weren't scheduled to," he pauses and then flashes me a sheepish smile. "I made sure we weren't scheduled to _travel_ that day." Wow. For the first time in five years, I actually get the euphemism.

"Well, that's good," I reply in what I hope is a casual voice. You know trying to pretend like you're not talking about something really important, is actually quite difficult. "I wouldn't want to disrupt any _travel _plans." It is good to see Daniel joke a little again. The week before he had looked so damn depressed when he had come into the shop, and just shook his head when I asked him what was wrong.

"You'll have to pass through two different security check points," Daniel continues as I pass over his coffee, "but after that, park anywhere free and approach the main gate right outside the mountain entrance. Your name is on the list, so just show the guards your ID and sign on in."

"And you'll be there, right?" I wonder if I would be this nervous if I was going to be working at somewhere more traditional - like the Smithsonian or the British Museum. Probably.

"The guards will give me a call and I'll come up and get you," Daniel explains. "I'm afraid I won't be able to show you the exciting stuff like the _travel _thing, or," he pauses again, "something really great, like my office." I laugh. "But, you'll get to meet General Hammond and we'll finish up the rest of the paperwork." It's not very crowded, so I walk Daniel toward the door.

"I actually met General Hammond before," I say suddenly.

"You have?" Daniel asks with interest. "When?"

"It was last year sometime," I explain. "You and I had a study appointment and much to my surprise, General Hammond himself came to tell me that you wouldn't be able to make it."

"He did?" Daniel sounds nearly as surprised as I was. "Well, that was nice of him," he adds.

"Apparently, you're an important man, Dr. Jackson," I say elbowing Daniel lightly in the ribs. "Your assistant saw my name on your calendar and for some inexplicable reason, mentioned it to General Hammond."

"He did?" He? Daniel's assistant is a he?

"Uh huh," I reply, nodding. "The General went on to say all sorts of nice things about me and coffee," I say this really fast as I'm certain I'm blushing now. "And then tells me he's doing everything in his power to get you home."

"I'm sure he was," Daniel says with certainty. "We're pretty close at the SGC." The words come out automatically, but Daniel abruptly pauses, as he seems to ponder his own words.

"He was right!" I say triumphantly. "You did make it back, safe and sound."

"We do have a way of doing that," Daniel replies drolly. We're at the door now, but Daniel is in a talkative mood, so I can't help but pester him just a little more.

"Daniel, will I be able to read about your missions?" I ask quietly. It isn't really against the rules to say 'mission', but at the same time, not something you want just anyone to overhear.

"Some," he replies with a shrug. "I'm not all too certain what security level they are going to be giving you, Kira - but some of the missions we've been on are pretty classified." I can imagine.

"Well, I'd love to read what you can show me." Daniel nods.

"You got it."

* * *

Daniel was right - I didn't really get to see all that much, but after getting over my abject terror of driving through the front gates (in my brand new used 1996 Toyota Corolla), I did all right. 

Those front guards sure don't smile all that much, but, after an exceedingly long five minutes, Daniel did indeed meet me like he said. I was shown into a windowless room where I filled out even _more _paperwork and was introduced (officially) to General Hammond. They took my picture, gave me a new ID card and welcomed me to Stargate Command.

"That is so cool-looking," Heather remarks, shaking me out of memory. "But does it pay okay?" Heather is currently an anthropology undergrad, but was a little bummed to hear what first year Anthro-grads actually make out there in the real world.

"You kidding," Stefan answers for me, "Kree is going to pay off her student loans in less than five years with this job!" There is a collective "oooo!" from the students near by. I laugh.

"It pays well," I remark, trying hard to keep the extreme, jump-up-and-down joy out of my voice. I don't think I want it to become public knowledge that I'm about to make in one year what took me _five _years to earn at Victors. I mollify this rather freaky factoid by adding, 'part-time'. _It's just a job, Kira,_'I tell myself. _It's just a job. _

Right. Only a sweet, kick-ass, translate some alien text and maybe save the galaxy sort of job. YES!

"Are you really going to work for Professor Yummy?" Gillian asks. I balk; I can't believe she just said that!

"Gill!" I admonish, giving her an evil death stare, which actually doesn't last very long before I end up giggling. "I can't be calling my new boss Professor Yummy!" I implore. "It wouldn't be professional!" Everyone just laughs.

"Maybe you can't, but I can!" Stefan interjects, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Remember, his best friend carries a gun," I add. I don't think they all need to hear that most of the time, Daniel does too.

* * *

After an hour or so, the regular customers trickle out and only Victor and most of the staff remain. I unwrap several very cool gifts, including what I'm certain will be a highly coveted 'Victors' sweatshirt. The staff knows I don't drink coffee, but still gave me a new French press and several pounds of the best beans in the shop. 

"For Professor Yummy," Stefan explains. "We figured, you'd want to keep on his good side for as long as you can."

"Thanks, you guys," I say, struggling to come up with words to express how much all of this means to me.

"Just don't make his coffee for him every day, okay?" Stefan continues. "The rest of the shop would still like to see the guy every now and then."

I heard several "You've got that right" and "uh huhs" from around the room. Daniel does have that effect on people! Wow. I wonder if he gives off the same vibe at the SGC?

Little by little, I hug everyone good bye and by noon, its back to just Stefan, Gretchen and I. I had finally changed into my barista clothes and am cheerfully back behind the register taking orders and chatting with customers.

It is my last day as a Barista.

Every now and then, the enormity of that thought throws me for a loop. After five years, it feel so incredibly strange to realize that THIS might be the last time I break a $100 dollar bill. Or maybe THIS would be the last double tall extra dry cappuccino I would make. I try instead to imagine what it will be like to work hundreds of feet beneath the surface (I can't recall if Daniel said I'd be on the 17th or 18th floor). I wonder if they have a sunroom or something to prevent vitamin D deficiency.

My shift is nearly over when I hear the door open and spy a familiar figure walking through the front door. The moment he walks in, I know something is wrong. It isn't the fact that he looks all rumpled, as if he is wearing clothes several days old. Nor is it the way he slowly pulls his glasses from his face and tucks them into his shirt pocket. Jack might deny it, but he has to be aware of how this simple action affects folks (mostly women). It isn't even his slow and measured gait - No, it is something in his face, a face that seems to have aged a thousand years in less than a week. I quickly turn around to hide from that face.

I don't want to look at Jack's eyes.

"Kira?" Stefan asks, not having caught sight of Colonel Jack walking through the front door. "You okay?"

"I have to go," I say quickly glancing towards the back room. He can't follow me back there, can he? I'll be safe in the back room.

"All right, just let me pull one last shot.."

"I have to go **now**," I repeat in near hysteria, turning around again. From the corner of my eye, I can see that Jack is almost at the front counter. He sees me. I know he sees me.

I can't look at him.

I have to leave.

I violently turn away from the register and start towards the backroom.

"Kira!" Stefan calls after me. I know he wants to catch me and ask what's wrong, but Gretchen is on break and he can't leave the register.

"I'll get her," I hear Jack say softly. No. I don't want to see you, Jack. I practically sprint into the back room, and even though it says, 'Employees Only', I'm certain he is right behind me.

"Can't talk now, Jack," I say in a rush as I hastily open my locker and grab my bag. I shove all the nicely pressed clothing into it and angrily zip it up. "Gottago," I say quickly, not looking up.

"Kira," Jack says softly taking a step towards me and putting a warm hand on my shoulder.

"No," I shout vehemently, as I bravely look up into Jack's tired and sad brown eyes. "Whatever you are going to tell me, I don't want to know and I'm certain you are wrong about anyhow."

"I'm sorry, Kira," Jack says in a paper-thin voice. "I.."

"You're wrong!" I say again, jerking myself away from his grip. I run out of the room and through the throngs of people waiting in line for a latte.

"Kira?" I hear Stefan call worriedly after me, as I race through the front door. I take a few deep gulps of warm spring air and then walk briskly towards the small pocket park on the edge of the square. I sit down and try to will my hands to stop shaking. I know he'll find me, but I still hold out hope that somehow I've become invisible.

It doesn't take him long at all.

"Kira," Jack says softly as he takes a seat next to me. He gently takes hold of one of my shaking hands and immediately I feel my eyes fill with tears.

"He's just injured, right?" I say hopefully. "More serious than all the other times, but only injured." I'm greeted with only silence.

"He was injured," Jack begins still holding my hand. "But it was serious."

Was. It _was_ serious.

Oh God! I look over at Jack for the first time and see the extreme sorrow and guilt written across his face.

"No," I cry softly, as my shoulders begin to shake. "Please don't tell me he's dead, Jack. Please."

"I'm sorry, Kira," Jack replies, reaching over and pulling me close. "I'm so so sorry. His voice is nearly a whisper as he continues, "Daniel died early this morning." My most perfect spring day is shattered with those five simple words.

Jack and I sit on that bench for a very long time as I mourn for my lost friend.

* * *

I have no idea if this will work, but I know I need to try. My hands are ice cold as I pull up to the first gate and give the somber guard my freshly laminated SGC ID. After I had calmed down, Jack had told me (in what I'm certain was a very watered-down version of the story) what had happened. He told me how Daniel had died doing something very heroic, and invited me to attend the SGC-only memorial service later in the week. He told me Daniel would have wanted it. I didn't know if I could do it. 

"Dr. Jackson's new assistant," the guard says softly as he scans my card. Bits and bytes about my professional life appear on his screen.

"Yes." That one word comes out hoarsely, as if I had only recently learned I had a voice. He looks at me with compassion.

"You heard?" he asks, giving me back the ID.

"Yes." This time my voice is stronger, although still soft and measured. It's almost as if I'm scared to say anything definitive aloud. I'm not ready.

"Dr. J was a really great guy," the guard adds, "We all really liked him." I couldn't find my voice to agree with him and could only nod as he waves me through.

I know I'm not ready, but I still need to do this. Looking far more confident than I feel, I go through the second gate, park and then show the front guard my ID. He motions for me to sign in. This time Daniel isn't there to greet me. The guard gives a nod and I head to the elevator. I push the button for Level 28.

The ride down feels forever. As I sink deeper and deeper into the mountain, I feel my heart constrict; I don't know if I can do this.

The doors open silently and I walk towards the murmur of voices. My heels click loudly along the brightly lit, but somber-colored hallway. Many of the doors that I imagine would have been sealed shut are now open. The voices grow louder as I walk through a double-thick entry way and into…

Into the room that houses the Stargate.

My jaw drops as I take in the magnificent large metallic ring standing proudly in the back of the room. It's far larger than I had imagined and the markings on the outer rim are amazing! I feel the pull to walk up the metal grate and touch them, to find some book that will help me decipher what they mean.

And then I catch sight of what is at the base of the grate. My entire body goes numb.

Daniel.

A simple casket draped with the American flag is resting on a mechanical trolley. At the top of the ramp is Colonel Jack, with Major Sam and their friend Murray (Teal'c) on either side. Jack is talking. I hear very little, as I seem to only have power over one sense at the moment and it is my eyes that are needed. I can't tear them away.

Daniel.

I'm in the very back of the room, but a small gap between bodies allows me to see a bit of the casket the entire time. I watch as Jack finishes his speech. I watch as both Sam and Teal'c say something. And then General Hammond. And then Dr. Frasier. And then there is silence as all the (living) bodies near the top of the ramp step aside - only Daniel's casket remains.

I watch as the Stargate begins to move, whirling first to the right and then to the left, One by one seven symbols are selected and the Stargate dramatically roars to life with a loud whoosh as what appears to be a great wall of water is thrust through the opening. It hovers for a brief moment directly above Daniel's casket and then recedes back into the void, leaving only a glimmering pool of blue vertical water.

I watch as Sam picks up a device and Daniel's casket begins to move up the metal ramp.

"Attention!" Jack orders, the words sounding incredibly loud as noise finally filters back into my ears. I watch as each and every military person present gives Daniel a perfect salute. Everyone stands rigid as Daniel's body is sent one last time through the Stargate.

Several moments pass in silence before the gate shuts down with an audible whoosh and Jack orders the room at ease. The murmur of voices begins again and I find alone surrounded by scores of people I may never know.

* * *

I haven't a clue where I'm going as I slowly back out of the gateroom and head down one of the deserted steel gray hallways. Everyone is still mingling around the Stargate and I feel like an intruder for remaining near by. I mean, I'm not one of them, am I? I'm not really part of Stargate Command - in spite of what a little plastic card says. Feeling more alone and sad than I ever thought possible, I randomly walk up and down the silent halls. 

After a fair amount of time (five minutes? Three hours?) I turn to the right and find myself back at the elevator. Guess this is a sign that I should leave. I mean - it's not as if Jack is going to have time to talk to me. Not today, anyhow. Daniel might have been very dear to me, been a significant part of my life and helped shape who I am today, but he wasn't my best friend. I can't even imagine what Jack must be going through right now. Against my will, my eyes once again fill with tears. After spending nearly five days in a perpetual state of hurt and tears, I am surprised there is anything left.

It's not fair, dammit! Here I find the craziest, most perfect job _ever, _working for one of the nicest, smartest, not to mention _cutest_ guys around, and my new boss and dear friend goes and does something heroic and saves the world. I let out a shuddering sob. It wasn't even _our_ world!

I find myself in the elevator heading back to the surface. I had scarcely begun my ascent when, for some inexplicable reason, I push the button for level 27. The elevator gives a little hop and the door silently opens to seemingly identical gray hall. I wrinkle my nose - why am I here? I'm fairly certain Daniel told me the researchers are on Level 17 or 18… I step out of the elevator and turn right and then left. I'm feeling more and more confused when I suddenly stop in my tracks as I spy the engraving on the door in front of me. Dr. Daniel Jackson.

Daniel's office.

Taking baby steps, I push the door silently open and step inside. Books and papers are scattered everywhere - exactly how I imagined his office must be. I pick up a framed photo of a beautiful woman. This must be Sha're. I walk around the office, picking up artifacts and glancing at half-completed translations. In the far corner of the room is an ancient coffee machine with an open bag of Victor's Special Blend near by.

Oh Daniel!

I hear footsteps approaching and quickly put the artifact I was holding down. I turn around to face what I'm certain will be MPs or someone telling me this room is restricted and I need to leave. I'm really surprised by who shows up.

"Hey," Jack says softly leaning against the doorway. "I heard a rumor that you were here."

"Rumor?" I ask.

"You signed in up top," Jack explains.

"Ah."

"You should have said something." Like what, Jack? What could I have possibly have said?

"Not really how I expected to see where you work…" I begin, my eyes rapidly filling with tears as I take a deep, shuttering breath. "All these years, I wondered where you guys worked, and now I find out…" My voice cracks and I can't continue. I begin to sob openly standing right there in the open in front of Daniel's desk. This isn't fair! Daniel isn't supposed to die! After all these years, I finally find out what he does, and he **dies**? IT'S NOT FAIR! I let out a low keen.

"Its okay, Kira," Jack says softly. I never even heard him move, and now he's standing at my side. "It's going to be okay," he repeats, enveloping me in a crushing hug.

"How can it be okay, Jack," I wail, sobbing into his chest. "Daniel is dead! How can **dead** be all right?" For several minutes I openly cry and wail and pretty much soak the front of Jack's dress blues. He holds me the entire time and continues to repeat that it will be all right and all those other soothing words you expect to hear when someone dies. I'm not sure if he's saying it for me or himself.

After several minutes, Jack begins to chuckle. "You realize you're already emulating Daniel, right?"

"Daniel spent time crying on your chest as well?" I couldn't help it - the smart-ass reply slips out before I can stop myself.

"We tried to keep it a secret," Jack answers without missing a beat, eyes twinkling. Without warning, a small artifact on the corner of Daniel's workplace crashes to the ground. Whoa - that's weird.

Jack breaks out into a huge grin. Now _that's_ even weirder - who grins like that on the day of a funeral? "Sorry, Daniel," Jack murmurs, almost too softly for me to hear.

"Kira," Jack says in mock-seriousness as he wipes my eyes, "Daniel and I didn't have that kind of relationship." I blink.

"Good to know…er, I guess." Daniel might be gone, but he and Jack are still confusing the hell out of me. I blink again and take another few steps deeper into Daniel's office, trying to absorb any residual Daniel-ness that might be lingering near by...

"Why do you think I'm emulating Daniel?"

"You've only been here once before, Kira. And unless Daniel was breaking protocol," Jack pauses and gives me a small smile. "Which Daniel did have a tendency to do, but in this instance, I think he would have told me..." He looks at me seriously. "You hadn't been down to Level 28 yet, had you?" I shake my head. No. I hadn't been there before.

"You hadn't seen the Stargate before." He says this as a statement. Again, I shake my head. It still feels very strange to feel all my short little hairs swish back and forth. "Which means," Jack continues, "that you hadn't gone through Stargate 101." I look at him in confusion. "I'm going to take that as a 'No, I haven't'," Jack says looking at my face.

"No one is allowed to see the Stargate without a basic orientation and primer, Kira," Jack says softly. "Daniel is usually the one to give the introduction." Once again, my eyes begin to fill.

"Hey, stop that," Jack admonishes kindly. "My medals can't take any more moisture!" I just end up hiccupping back a sob. I still don't understand why Jack thinks I'm emulating Daniel, but I'm too tired to ask him to explain.

"You're welcome to come by Daniel's office anytime, Kira," Jack says, as he gives me another hug. "But we probably should clean it up a bit first." I know he's referring to any sensitive material that might be lying around, but I fall for the bait anyway.

"I like it just the way it is."

* * *

Talking with Jack (crying with Jack) actually does make me feel better. Feeling much lighter than I have in days, I let Jack escort me back to the elevators. Which is good really, as I'm not too sure I would have found them on my own. 

"Kira," Jack begins somewhat awkwardly, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. "You are still going to work for us, right?" I almost wish I hadn't known Jack for five years. Then, maybe, I wouldn't hear how much he wants me to say yes. I don't know if it's for Daniel, or for Jack himself, but I hear so much need in that one little question, that it nearly breaks my heart. I don't know what to say.

"I don't know, Jack," I reply honestly. "Don't get me wrong, being able to work with alien languages and texts is pretty darn appealing, but it was Dan…" My voice cracks as I try to say his name. I quickly swallow the lump in my throat and will myself not to cry. Again.

"Daniel was the main reason I accepted the job," I finally manage to say. Jack nods in understanding.

"It's your decision, Kira," he says. "I just wanted you to know that we still would love to have you on board."

"Can I let you know tomorrow?" I ask.

"Of course," Jack replies. "Take all the time you need." I nod gratefully and step into the elevator. As it silently ascends, I think about Daniel and the work he did. I think about Daniel and the work he wanted _me _to do.

I exit into the cool night air and take a moment to stand under the stars. It's a beautiful clear evening and without the city's light pollution to dilute the skies, I can see stars as far as the eye can see. I stand there, looking upwards for several minutes, wondering how many of those suns Daniel had visited. Wondering if maybe some day, _I'll _have a chance to visit some of them. I'm not a religious person, but at that moment, I have the strangest sensation that Daniel is out there. I don't know if he's an angel, or just a bit of galactic dust, but I _feel _him around me. A light breeze, much warmer than the cool night air, ruffles my hair. Inexplicably, I feel lighter. I know what I need to do.  
Decision made, I walk serenely back towards the sentry in order to officially sign out.

"See you tomorrow, miss?" the young officer asks, as I pick up the pen. I share with him my first genuine smile in days.

"You know what," I say, as I sign my pen and replace the cap. "I think you just might." Still smiling, I walk to my car and head home.

The End

* * *

**Author's Notes: **So sorry I couldn't give you notice about needing your hankies on this one, but that would have given it away! I hope you enjoyed (!) this last Barista installment and that the much anticipated Meridian tag was worth the wait. This really is the last chapter in the Barista series - explanation follows in the Barista Addendum. Please let me know what you thought. And thank you all so, so much for an amazing thirty-five month journey! 

Oh! Shortly before posting, one of my lovely beta-readers pointed out that she remembered a scene, early in Season 6, where Sam laments that they "didn't even have a memorial service for Daniel". I looked, and sure enough, she's right. I really wanted/needed to include that scene in this story, so I'm going to ask for your indulgence as I slyly slip over into AU-land and leave the Cannon universe behind. It's just a small slip folks. Really.

Story completed November 1, 2005  
Series completed: December 9, 2002 - November 1, 2005


	51. Chapter 51

**Barista Acknowledgements** _(updated 11/2/05)_

Author's Notes (long version) and Thank you List

I couldn't possibly just say, 'bye and end the series there. I hope you can indulge me for a few minutes and read my little author's addendum here. I'm going to wax philosophical for a few minutes and then go on to thank each and every person who has taken the time to send me a note of encouragement or review in the last almost three years.

I must give credit where credit is due. The Barista series was actually inspired by Majel's funny and well-written Photochick series. Majel, I _so_ owe you a cup of coffee and/or diet coke! VBG

December 2002 wasn't exactly a cheery time for me. I was entering my fourteenth month of joblessness (excluding short term contract work) and was about to cash my last unemployment check. I was fretting over how I would pay January's mortgage and trying to come up with something scintillating that would merit entry into graduate school. I had been writing heart- wrenching angst for over three months and needed something light and fluffy to shake myself out of my funk.

Apparently, it worked. On December 8th, 2002, snickering to myself, I wrote the first Barista story. I wrote three more in quick succession and posted to both ff and heliopolis. I received encouraging feedback and decided to just keep going. I had no "master plan" - I was just having fun. Before I knew it, my funk was completely gone!

Less than two weeks after starting the series I (finally!) found a job. I completed Season 1 of the series and splurged on Season 2 DVDs in order to continue writing (i hadn't actually seen Season 2 yet). I continued to put Kira into new and embarrassing situations, and before I knew it, I was accepted into graduate school. In celebration, I purchased Season 3 on DVD and continued the stories. In August of '03, The Barista took home a Fanfiction Awards triple (Best Series, Best Original Character and Best Quirky Story)

The Barista stories grew in both length, plot, and characterization. I branched out by bringing in secondary characters (e.g., Stefan, Dr. MacKenzie, Jacob) and telling stories from other view points. I spent a summer spinning a yarn about Kira's 21st birthday, completed a team fic (Imbroglio), bought a house (okay, one bedroom co-op -- still it's MINE) and received Season 4 DVDs as a birthday gift.

I continued to write.

Today, the Barista Series has become one of the longest running series in the Stargate Universe and each new story is read by (I swear to God I am not making this up) thousands of people. Thankfully, it built up over time, as I doubt I could have handled the notoriety! I'm really glad didn't have all those tracking tools yet. ;p. I'm still flabbergasted/awed by the support, and am still having a heck of a lot of fun writing each story. Which kind of makes you wonder why I'm ending it, yes?

The series is all about _Daniel's_ Barista, and even though Jack has finagled himself into a starring role in many of the stories, Kira is still, first and foremost, Daniel's Barista. I didn't want to continue the series after he ascended. I also knew Kira would be graduating from graduate school (coincidentally enough, as would I) and she wouldn't/couldn't continue to work in a coffee shop. I always tried to make this series be as realistic as possible (as funny as that might sound) and knew I couldn't keep Kira in the shop after she had finished her schooling. The Barista Series was always going to end with Daniel's ascension - I just never thought it would take me nearly three years to get there.

Writing this last story, was really, really difficult. Not only did I have to sit and watch Meridian again (thank GOD they brought him back), but I had to write all this angst and emotion into my poor original character ...without short-circuiting my keyboard. Yes, it is possible to sniffle and go all teary and still type. I love Kira guys, and as much as I would love to write her forever, I needed for this period of her life to end. Meridian and Daniel's ascension was the perfect place.

I know I can't possibly stay away from Kira forever, but I am going to (try!) and write other things. I am certain I'll be occasionally dropping in on Ms. K to see how she's doing. Promise. I've already received a request for an Abyss tag. :smiles: **Plus, I promise you, if I do nothing else, I'll bring Kira back in Fallen.**

* * *

Acknowledgements - Thank You 

Kira, Stefan, all the staff at Victors and yours truly would like to thank the following people for their continued support over the last 34 1/2 months. If I left anyone out of the list below, please shoot me an email and I'll add you in; I tried to get everyone! A few people must be singled out for special embarrassment: **Louise** - It was my writings that brought Lou into my life and that alone makes me thankful that I chose to write these stories. **Kath** was my first ever beta reader, back in the days when no one knew who I was or cared to correct some much needed syntax! **Susan** happily stumbled into my Barista stories only in the last two years, but is responsible for truly teaching me how to use a comma, and **Maureen** who has taken on a very special Barista assignment that I hope to share with you all soon. And then there's **Donia**, **Jake**, **Jane**, **Jeanne**, **John**, **Julia**, **Karen**, **Katie**, **Kathy** (_wow, that's a lot of J and K names, isn't it?_), **Mayi**, **Mary, Sylvia**,and **Windsor** - all of whom have written me regularly over the last two plus years and provided wonderful feedback and encouragement. Thank you all!

And thank you to everyone who has taken the time to email, review or send me feedback in the last three years. I truly believe this series would have died after season 3 or 4 if it wasn't for your support. Special mention to my secret admirer who not only made my day/week/year by writing to me, but (more importantly), introduced me to Shado. The following list is alphabetical, mostly by pseudonym, although if you only gave me one name, that's the one I used! I'm more than a little amazed at the length of this list - there's nearly 1,000 of you!  
A Newlacil, A Wandering Minstrel, A.H. Smith, Abby Ace, abeyanceablaze, acidwit, Addict, Adele, Aderam, Ael L Bolt, AirforceF-15, aizjanika, ajc, Ajido, al, Alatariel97, Alaula-Star, Albi, alby, Alex Agrimakis, aLeX24, Alexandra, Alexi Murphy, alice, Aligewe, allie, Allison S, Ally, AllyKat, Alynna Lis Eachann, amadeus, Amaruk Wolfheart, Amaunetx, Amber McKenna, Amber W, Amber, amefinch, Amelia, Amy Amy, Ancientgate99, andi, Andrea Barnay, Angel to the Fallen, angela, Angelina H. Granger, angw, Anja, anke, Ann Harris, Anne S, Annerb, Annie McLendon, Annie W, Anonomous Shadow, Antz, Ao, Arashihawk, archteri, Arisa, Ash, Ashleyrose, ashwing, Asia-chan, Astra1, Astrophysikerin, Audra Lachesis, AuroraDannon, Ayinana K, babyface78, BakaJin, Barbara, Beadazzled42, Beautiful Wednesday, BeeBee, Beech, Belisse, Belladonna5, Bentropy, BethinSg, Betsy Ukertis, betty colvin, beyance, BFire, BigRedCanuck, Biltong, BizzyLizzy, bk, BkwrmDancer, Bladeswin, Blue Topaz, BlueJello86, Blueraven33, Blonde-Existentialist boo, bookfanatic84, BranBlack, bratprincess, Bridget P, Bridget, britchick, brittany, bron, Brone Greyclaw, Bugly42, Byrdde, C.C, C.J., Cairis Rin, Caitlyn, Calantha, Calypso, Carmine, Carolyn K, Cartwright, Cassandra H, Cassie B, Cateye78239, Cathain N, Catharine Senior, catharoo, Cat's Eye Nebula, Cattibrie393, ccgig, CeilingFan, Celeste6, Celtic Angel, Cero Morrigan Yuy, chachu, Chalcedon, Chaoseternus, chaostheory89, Charo, Chas, CheleSedai, Cherisa Phantom, cherryblossomjen, Cherubino, Cheryl Graves, Chezza, Chillin, Chotki, Chris4Short, ChristalSteele, Christie F, Christie W, Christina L, Christina, Christine, Chuck McCune, Ciara Greene, circularwaffles, Clarissa French, Cleo the Muse, Cloak-Of-Nox, CMS, Coat, Coco Ahrens, COFFEE, Coffeeluver, Colleen Sayre, Commandant Sun, Commodore Norrington, Completed Irony, ConnieRook, Connor Lush, Connor, cooncat, CorvidQueen, Courser, Coz, CPAnthoni, Crazyowl, cripeswolfdee, Crystal Smithwick, cs091, CS091, csl, CT, Curt Scheuerman, Cyblade Silver, Cyndi, D, Dale, Dami, Damia, dancink, Daniel M, Daniela E, Daniela, dannysgirl, dannysprayer, dappykittencat, DarkNightChilde, DarkSapphire11, DarlaP, Dawn, Dbauer, De, Deanne, deathstreet89, deb, debbie, debcole, Deborah, Debra G, Deb's Muse, Delilah M., demonwings2421, Denise Powell, Destiny Skywalker, devianttart, diana kitchen, dietcokechic fiction addict, Dileeca, Dimac99, DiverSam, docjen, doesitsaycolonel, dogbrother, donamac, Donia, Dora, Dot, Down the Rabbit Hole, Dr, Dr. Dredd, Drayer, Rebecca, Drucilia, Duraiken, EaverAfter-01, eb2504, EclecticKitty, Ecri, Ednyadove, Eileen S, Eleanor J, Eleanor Young, elisa, elizabeth, Elizabeth Pryder, Elizabeth Spavin, elizchrism, elke elena, Elleiadrieal, Emily Jones, Emma Aveston, Emma, EndlessBlue, Eowyn Took, Erica, erin royle, Erin, eris86, Ernest Birks, EverAfter-01, Evita, Ezrial, Faiz Parkar, Falcon-lw, fan person thingy, fanfic chic, Faye Bontje, Feather-of-Maat, feemia, Fhulhi the Crazy, fiona-nk, fischergirl, Flatkatsi, flk000, Floopygirl, flyingtwinkie, ForCryinOutLoud, Fran Hartman, Fred, FrEiTaG , friends-16uk, gale, Garmorn, Gate Traveling Nelia, gatedreamer, Gateslacker, Gayle Saxon, gekkomaster, Genna Genna, Geraldine, Gia Rai, Gina, GinaLynn, ginger, Glenda Atkins, Graham Wagner, greenjadedragon, grey, Griffen48035, griffindor lady, Guile, Gumnut, Gutzmann, Kristine, Hailey Russell, Hannah, happymint, Harriet, Heather E, Heather N, HecatonchiresLM, Heidi S, Heist, Helen P, Helena D, Helena J, Helena Lauber, HGandRHrforever, hh, highlanderchic, Highlander-Xwo-Slayer, Hkall, HlnHtn, hollyilex, Honeydew79 lanham, hpsauce87, HunterOfStorms, I Am Tzu, iamari, ichargrl, Illithia, Ilovesg1, i'mpeckable, impossibleaoi, Inuko, Iolanthe95, IrisOwens, iscariot, Ithidwen, Itinerant, Jackie M, Jackie, jacksrubberduckie, Jade Dragon, Jade R, jakisbishlygay, JAMIE C, Jamie J, Jammchr, Jane West, janelouise, jax, jcarp, Jeanida-Myrishi, jedge1, Jedi Mase, jen, Jen106, Jenn Ukeritis, Jennifer H, Jennifer, Jenny, jennzabell, Jesape, Jess, Jessica, Jewels, JG, Jinx999, jj, JL, jnorman, Jo Jensen, Jo McConnell, Jo, joag, JoeB1451, Johanna, John Willis, JoIsBishMyoga, JoJo Autrey, Jojo, Jojo6, Jolene, Jolinar, jontravolta-23, Joseph, JOY LEONARD, jrsost, Judy, juleann, Julia Blackshear Kosatka, Just Lurking, JWG, Jynjyr, K. B., KaliedescopeCat, Kallicokatt, kanikan, Kara Angitia, Kara Wilson, Karen C, Karen Grant, Karen, KariAnn, Karibou, Karloff and friends, Karrie-Beth, karrottop, Karthik, Kasia, kat jones, Kat Tewksbury, Kat, katbaran, katclaws29, Kate Lennon, Kate Nox, Kate, kate98, katfairy, Kath, Kathleen, Kathy, Katie, Katratzi, Katrika Star, Keaira Dougherty, Keely Red, Kei Tree, Kekewey, Kelley Kelly, Kerri H, Kerri T, Kerryn, kesomon, Kezzer, Kharma, kim jang, Kim, Kin Pandun, Kirsten, kirstin McCusker, Kits, Kitten, Kitty J, Kitty Pierce, Kiva Jones, Kjara, kkenny, Korinna Myorin, Kresta Placho, Kriss Abeyance, Krista Park, Kristen Davey, Kristy Wedel, Kurai Musoka, Kuro kyoko, Kurt the Military Brat, L R, L.E. McMurray, la muse, LA, Lady Cinnibar, Lady Gray, Lady Leptopus, lady rosebit, Lady Russell Holmes, Lady Yueh, LadyAmelia2008, Ladybug Jess, ladyholder, LadyReeana, lathac, Laura C, Laura K, Laura W, Laura, Laurie, Layton Colt, LcNessie, ldewey, lembas7, lennielight, Leslie Wallace, lewiethecat, lewiethecat, Liddy, lieutenants-lady, liketheriver, LilyAyanami, LilyLivered, Limerick16, Linda Furey, Linda H, Linda, Ling-San, Lisette, Liss, liv, Livengoo, Liz Gerds, Liz, lizard0979, Lochoko, Loethaelis, longstoryshort, Loolabelle, lori, lorna, lostwlf, LRh, Lt. Cmdr Jara Dax, Luatiki, lucy, Luki Dimension, Luminara, Lumpster, LunarMist DarknessEclipse, Luren, Lurker3, Lyansidde, lyapunov, Lydia2, lyl, Lynn, Lynne Casey, lynnmichelle, Lyse, M, Mac8, mad mental, MadameVivian, madan, Madeleine de Martivaux, Madeline, madscientistsuz, magda, Magda1, maggie, magnetic-starfish, MaireadInish, Majel, MajorSamFan, Mara Jade Jedi, Mara Jade, MarbleGlove, Marcela Bates, Marcia Thom, Marcus Rowland, Margaret, Mari, María Adelaida Fernández, Marie, Marie-J, Marieke, Marilyn Larson, Marilyn Levinson, Marisa Ponte, Marisa, Marisol Caley, marrisa carley, Mary Beth Lamb, Mary Deveau, Mary Kate, Marz, Marz1, Matt and Misty, Matt Bialostoki, Maureen, Max, Maxennce, Maxennce, Mayi, McConnell, Jolene M., MegumiFuu, Mel, Melanie Dunkin, meldames, melissa boschwitz, Melissa, Mellyna, melpomene-muse of tragedy, Meredith, Mhuyckknight, MiaRose 156, Michael Davis, Michael, Michaela, Michele Alt-Realities, Michelle and Shawn Willard, MICHELLE HOLMES, Minerva9544, minty, Mipcy, Mira, Miralys, Mirka, Misi, Mistress Desdemona, Misty Jordi, Misty Valentine, Misty, MJ, MK, Mocha Amellaii, MoJoR, Monna Qasem, Monna, monsafrit8d, Montage, Mooch, Morange, morgan, MotherCHOWGoddess, MPalMER97, Mrs Alfred, MsCracker7, Musings-of-Apathy, myeerah, myra3, mysterious angel, mystjade, mz lzzy, Mzzedzed, N C, NahtanoJ88, Nancy L, Nancy R, Narya's Bane, Nasirah, Natalie, Navy22, Neetz, Nellie, Nellie, Nemesis Enforcer, neuropsych, newromantic, Nickel Fey, Nicole Coggan, Nida, nighshae, nightfynix, niltak, Nina, Nittle Grasper Fan Joshie, Norwegianne, novice, offbeat musician, Oracle10, Orion9, OrionTheHunter, Orka, P. A. Burkholder, Pam, pamsparkle, Pat (Major Pat), Pat, Patti, Paula Christie, Peg, Peggy Kellogg, PenguinMints, Penny, PentagonMerlin, perfectlywindysky1, Pete, Peter Briggs, Petra, Phili, Phoenix Flight, phyllis, PinkFred, PKgirl, Pologetix, Porthos1013, Queen Gwenyvere, Queen of Fairyland, Queen of the Elven City, Queenie, Rabaab Morris, Rai, Rainchaser, rankokun alpha, RaquelAlexandra, Raziel616, Razzbaby, Read300300, Rebecca Sayre, Rebecca Webster, Rebecca, rebekekkah knight, reclariant, Redbyrd, regent, Regina Smith, ReiGreenleaf of Mirkwood, Rena, ReneBelling, Renee Walker, Rhia Lang, Rhia, Rhoboat, Rick, Rixzel, Robin, Robyn Maddison, Rockin Chick, Rockson Brown, Roger Marek, romennaofnumenor, Romm, rose, rosethorneight, Rowe, Roxburgh L.J., Roxie Ray, Rponda, Rude's Mom, runaroundsue, Running out of ink, Russian Lover, Ruth, Ryder of the Shadow's, rypperdoc, s male, sabarae, Sabrina Mecum, sally, Sam Emery, Sandy, Sarah Marie, Sarah W, sarah, Saramund, Sazz, sbeegee, Scifinutalways1999, scjon, Scribe, scully, seamonkeysis, Seanait, SeedC, SeekerGurl, Sei-san, Seldear, selori, Sepher Raziel, Seraina, Serina Kat, SG-1 fanfic, SG-1 Girl, SG1happy (DebMc), sg1robinson, ShadeAngel, Shado, shadodncr, Shalla, Shall-Iin, Shannon K, Shannon, Sharo, Sharon Male, Sharon, Sharyn, Sheera Azm, Sheili, Shelliesnape, Shelly Wolf, Sheri, shetlandlace, Shiloh, Shinara, Shoemaker, Casey (GESM), Shukuen, Sierra, Signup Free, SilentChaos, Silverstar to-Ennien, silverwater17, SilverWolf7007, SineAshke, sirval, sk023, skabs, smalldiver, Sonday (Connie), sophiedb, Sparky, SpellMasters, Spuds13, Sqweakie the Wonder Mouse, Star Lin, Starcat3579, Starfire, starfox, stargate danluv, stargatesol.dk, StarKitty, Stebe, stellagirl, Stephanie Kohan, Steve & Nita Salmon, Steven M Wagner, stevewraith, Stoko, Storm Hunter, subjectshadowcat k, sue stanley, Sue, Sugar Bunny, Summercloud, summer-c-nemec-quinn, Susan Bolick, Suzanne Cartwright, SW, t, T. Claar, t.a.g.0, tacenna, taintor, Tammeco, Tammy D, Tammy, Tammy-Jet, Taren-ca, Taylor Grey, Taynna, Teal Trannie, technetium, tehmaddcat, Tempest in Blue, Tena, Tere Matthews, Terra Evans, Terreis, Terri O'Neill, Tes Schaff, Tes, Thaliae, That Idiot, The Awesome Possum, the black leopard, The Blue Raven, The, TheGalaxyTheUniverse, Thel, Thorn, Tigerdrake, tigermoth26, Tigress Burning, Tim Knight, timmermac, Timothy Schellenbe, Tina, tinypenguin, TJM, Toby Roth, tpe78, Tracey Luen, Traci Sproule, Travelling One, Traycer, Treece, Tricia, Trisana Kara, Trish Peavey, Trish Walker, TRUXPHILE, Tsugath, tuch, Twocats, Twocatstoo, ty-rant84, UP, urdreamkeeper, Valkyre, Vampire Child, Van Emond, Vanessa, veegee, Vegasedj, Verb, Verse12, Vicki, Vicky, videl500, Vinnet/binksbabe, Wavewalker, weesta, Wekser, wendy, whisper99, Windsor Williams, Winifred Oniel, Winter Jameson, Winter Skye, witchbsword, workisover, wraith816, Wyona, Yaku, Yakuko, YAY, Yenda, Yllyana, Yokukuri, Yvonne, Zaque, Zediir


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